


The One with the Loft

by teacass (Fushigi)



Series: Loft!verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Barista Castiel, Everyone Lives In The Same Building AU, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Humor, Lofts, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Neighbors, Partying, Pining, Romantic Comedy, Sharing a Bed, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Trapped In Elevator, deancastropefest, there are a lot of butts in this story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-08 02:45:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7740421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fushigi/pseuds/teacass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine an old industrial building somewhere in the sunny San Francisco — with all its sixteen flats and sixteen families. (Or friends. Or just roommates. Or, well, brothers.) Imagine the mayhem, the drama, the romance. Imagine a young attractive mechanic named Dean. Did you know he’s pining for the hot neighbour from the loft upstairs? No, not the short and noisy one. I meant his brother, the one with those dreamy blue eyes. Let’s call him Castiel, okay? Imagine Castiel — he is a handsome, young ex-accountant who likes coffee, yoga, and Dean from apartment 3C. </p>
<p>You got all that? Great. Now this is the story of how they got together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to write an "everyone lives in the same building" story and then Tropefest happened and I thought, _Well, if that isn't a perfect excuse, I don't know what is_. So, here it is.  
>  Biggest thank you to my wonderful artist, [Pax](http://scribblyscratch.tumblr.com/)! I am absolutely in love with what you've created for this challenge. As should everyone - just look at those butts!  
> Thank you to my lovely beta, [Lauren](http://archiveofourown.org/users/superhoney/pseuds/superhoney), for making sure I don't miss any articles and other silly stuff!  
> Thank you to the challenge mods, Jess and Jojo - thank you for giving us the chance to take part in such a great challenge! I had so, so much fun doing it! You're the best  
> Also, shoutout to the entire d/c tropefest twitter DM group. It wouldn't be the same without talking with you, guys.
> 
> **INFO:** If you're here mostly for the pretend relationship trope, I think it's fair to say that it only appears later in the story and lasts only one chapter. The entire fanfiction is sort of a mash-up of different tropes and some of them only make a brief appearance.
> 
> Now, onto the story. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> [ART MASTERPOST](http://scribblyscratch.tumblr.com/post/149832740661/tumblr_ocvgclGp2P1rz5w04) [STORY PREVIEW ON TUMBLR](http://deancastropefest.tumblr.com/post/149372427207/posts-september-4th-tropes-neighbors-au-slow#notes) [PINTEREST BOARD](https://pl.pinterest.com/fuszigi/fic-the-one-with-the-loft/) [DEAN/CAS TROPEFEST](http://deancastropefest.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Now with the [timestamps](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8268475/chapters/18943024)!
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 

## episode one

_neighbours do unto strangers  
what you do to yourself_

  


Dean Winchester’s usual morning begins with the alarm clock blaring through his sleep-blurred mind and one of his hands sneaking out from under the covers to turn it off. He often gives himself five more minutes of sleep and then drags his feet to the bathroom. When he finally makes it to the kitchen, it’s usually empty — Sam’s not back from his morning jog yet, but there’s a pot of freshly brewed coffee on the table. Dean sips it slowly, allowing himself to wake up, and then fixes himself a quick breakfast: toast, scrambled eggs, maybe pancakes. Sam comes back, steals half of his breakfast, takes a quick shower, and then he’s out of the apartment to make it on time for his first class. Dean bums around the flat for a few more minutes, tries to come up with something for dinner, checks his e-mails. 

When it’s time to go, he locks the apartment and heads out. On some mornings, when he feels particularly lazy, he uses the elevator and sometimes has to spend a full boring minute pretending to enjoy talking with Doug, who lives in apartment 2B. The guy’s kind of a dick and also a cop, and he is _always_ late for work (his wife, Donna, always leaves earlier, but Dean supposes it has more to do with their constant arguing than with pure diligence). Most of the time, though, Dean takes the stairs (they live on the third floor, it’s really not a big deal). Outside, he usually exchanges a few words with Benny, who’s either coming back from a morning walk with his huge black Newfoundland dog (Sam adores the beast and despises the owner) or on his way to work as well. Sometimes he runs into Ellen or Colette, and on one particular occasion he had a frightening encounter with Colette’s husband, Cain — he nearly hit him with the door on his way out and could feel Cain’s scowl on the back of his head even in the safety of his car. 

His beautiful car — a ‘67 Chevy Impala, a real classic, loved and respected by everyone in the neighbourhood, and he really _isn’t_ bragging — takes him to the shop where he spends six to seven hours fixing other cars and getting chewed out by his boss for every little mistake he happens to make. He loves Bobby — he’s kind of like his uncle — but he can be a real hardass when it comes to work and cars. 

After work, Dean picks up groceries, heads home, parks the Impala in her usual spot, and then he just relaxes at home for the whole evening, cooking dinner, watching TV, and generally minding his own business.

This is not a usual morning.

First, he oversleeps. The night before he stayed up until 3 a.m. getting hooked on _Sense8_ (friggin’ Charlie and her friggin’ TV shows, man) and he sleeps right through his first and only alarm. When Sam pokes his head into his room, concerned about the lack of Dean in the kitchen, it’s almost half past nine and Dean needs to leave in, like, ten minutes. 

“Why are you still here,” Dean mutters with his mouth full of cereal.

“First class got cancelled,” Sam says with a shrug and passes Dean a cup of coffee. Dean gulps it in three big swallows and almost burns his throat.

“Lucky bastard,” he gasps and runs out of the apartment. He has to come back for the car keys and Sam laughs at him loudly. 

He forgets his lunch, though, and has to spend the better half of his break standing in the queue at McDonalds’. His foul mood makes Bobby even more disgruntled and when Dean finally leaves work and heads home, the only thing he wants to do is to eat something substantial and burrow into his bed with a beer and his laptop.

It turns out that there is a big-ass van parked in his usual spot. Dean stares at it for a moment, parks at the very end of the parking lot, and gets out, fuming. Then, he notices a commotion near the door to the building: people going in and out, carrying boxes and other weird stuff. Dean spots a flurry of red hair and jogs up to catch Charlie before she disappears inside again.

“Dean, hi!” She grins at him, squinting against the summer sun.

“The hell’s going on here?” Dean asks, gesturing around with his hand. “And why is this ugly thing parked in my spot?”

“Oh, right,” Charlie says. “The guys probably didn’t know it was yours.”

“What guys?” he asks, but then Charlie puts the box into his hands. “What—”

“Take it inside, it’s heavy,” Charlie explains with a wink. “I’ll go find something more suitable for my fragile and feminine frame.”

“Hey!” Dean calls after her. “ _What_ _guys_?”

“Our new neighbours, of course,” says a voice behind him. Dean turns to see Linda Tran exiting the building with a tall man in tow. 

Dean blinks. “We’ve got new neighbours?” he asks stupidly.

The guy stops in front of him and extends his hand. “My name is Gadreel. I’m very pleased to meet you.” He realises Dean’s hands are busy holding the box and he nods solemnly. “Thank you for helping us move in.”

“Oh. Yeah,” Dean says. “No problem.” He wants to say something about the van being in his spot, but Gadreel heads towards the car and leaves him alone again. 

It seems all he can do right now is to get that box inside and hide in his apartment as quickly as he can, before anyone notices.

“Dean-o!”

Crap, it’s Gabriel, their neighbour from the loft upstairs. He enters the building right after Dean with a long wooden coat rack in his hands. Its end drags across the concrete with an unpleasant scraping sound.

“You taking the elevator?” Gabriel asks.

Dean could take the stairs and try to escape, but Gabriel is looking at him as if he knows what he’s thinking. Dean sighs and pushes the button.

“Look at us, helping our new friends! I feel like I’m in a sitcom,” Gabriel comments.

Dean spends a few seconds eyeing the coat rack and wondering how it will fit into the elevator, then scoffs. 

“Your whole life is a sitcom, Gabe.”

“You mean because I’m awfully funny, handsome, and always get the girl? Hell yeah, my life’s a sitcom. I’m the main character.”

“Yeah,” Dean mutters.

The elevator dings. Dean goes inside and waits for Gabriel to drag the rack behind him, tilting it to the right and almost poking Dean’s eye out. 

“You met them already?” Gabriel asks.

“Huh?” Dean tears his gaze away from the box in his hands.

“The new guys. What’d you think?”

“Uh, I only met one. I think he’s named the same as you,” Dean jibes. 

“Dude, _no_. His name’s _Gadreel_.”

Dean smirks. “Isn’t this your name, too?”

Gabriel ignores him. “Anyhoo. What do you think of them? They seem close. Are they brothers? Lovers? Incestuous lovers?”

Dean grimaces. “You’re sick, Gabe,” he says. The door opens and he goes out, leaving Gabriel alone with his coat rack. He notices they’re on the third floor and only now realises the new neighbours must be moving into flat 3B, across the hall from Dean and Sam. The last tenant, Amy Pond, moved out within two days and didn’t say a word to anyone about it, leaving the flat empty for the last two weeks. 

Maybe if Dean could just put the box inside and run off to his own apartment—

He almost drops the package in his hands when he collides with someone in the doorway to the flat.

“Hello, Dean,” says Castiel Milton. His hands land on the box to prevent it from falling.

“Oh, hi,” Dean says, only a little breathlessly. 

Cas smiles at him — a small, friendly smile that reaches up into his eyes — and passes him to go outside. Dean stays frozen for some time, thoughts foggy with blue eyes, messy hair, and slender fingers, and then something heavy hits him in the head.

“Fuck!” he calls out and turns to glare at Gabriel.

“Sorry,” Gabriel says with a shit-eating grin, still with his stupid coat rack swaying dangerously close to Dean’s face. “You’re in the way.”

“Screw you,” Dean mutters and bends to deposit the box onto a small pile of other boxes. 

“Daydreaming about my baby brother again?” Gabriel sniggers.

“Shut up,” Dean hisses. “I don’t— I wasn’t—”

“Sure,” Gabriel says and winks at him. 

“Gabe, I swear to God—”

“Guys!” Sam all but barrels into the room with three boxes in his arms. “Move out of the way, they’re carrying in the sofa.”

Dean ducks out into the hallway. Cas stands there, watching as Benny and a burly guy Dean doesn’t recognise haul the couch up the stairs. 

“And that’s Abner,” Gabriel says when he and Dean join Castiel’s side. “Hiya, new neighbour! Meet our handsome handyman, Dean!”

Dean definitely does not blush when the eyes of both Abner and Castiel land on him curiously.

“Hi, Dean,” Abner pants and nods towards him.

“We should continue,” Cas says when the couch disappears inside the apartment. 

“You go, crazy kids,” Gabriel says. “I think I need to sit down for a second. All that walking…”

Dean narrows his eyes and wants to say that he deserves a break, too, but then Cas smiles at him again and heads towards the stairs. Dean follows him without thinking.

They don’t talk when they go downstairs. Dean notices Cas’ black slacks and clean white button-down and realises his work clothes are old and dirty and probably have oil stains on them. He allows Castiel to lead the way so that he can hide behind his back and go unnoticed.

They pass Charlie and Kevin, barely visible from behind their piles of boxes, and then go outside and head towards the van again. It seems that almost everything has been carried upstairs already, with only one big box, a few smaller ones, and a medium-sized plant left on the floor of the car. Cas bends down to reach the plant and Dean’s brain short-circuits for a few seconds. Damn, but the guy has a nice ass.

Dean forces his eyes to move up to Cas’ face when he turns to him.

“Ugh, no,” Dean protests when Cas tries to give him the plant. “Gimme that big box. It looks heavy.”

Dean can swear Cas actually smirks at him. “If you want.”

“Yeah, sure,” Dean grunts and tries not to wobble when Cas drops the box into his arms. “ _Oof_.”

“Are you okay?” Cas asks.

Dean is glad Cas can’t see his face from behind that monstrosity because he’s certain he’s never been redder in the face.

“Yeah,” he groans and starts walking. 

“Careful, Dean.” He can hear Castiel’s steps behind him. “Turn a little bit to the right.”

Dean almost collides with the wall by the main door. The box scrapes the red brick and the knuckles of his left hand almost catch onto the wall, as well. 

“Wait, let me open the door.” Cas rushes to his side and holds the door ajar, two small boxes tucked under his arm. 

“You go first,” Dean says.

“No, I have to hold the door. You go first.”

Dean’s face gets even hotter. “Ah. Right.”

_Smooth, Winchester._

He’ll blame it on his crappy day.

They wait for the elevator and Dean tries not to think about the more and more burning pain in his lower back. Instead, he focuses on his neighbour.

“So, do you know those guys?” he asks. Stupid question, really, since Gabriel already told him they’re strangers for him, too, but Castiel doesn’t know that.

“No, I don’t. Do you?” 

“Nuh-uh. I kinda didn’t even remember they were supposed to move in today.” He pauses for a second, then complains, “They parked in my spot.”

“Oh, no. I’m sure they’ll move their car once you ask them,” Cas says sympathetically. 

The elevator door opens and they go inside, putting their boxes on the floor between them. Dean busies himself with brushing his hands on his jeans so Cas has to lean over to push the button. 

Dean curses his own stupidity and hopes his embarrassment doesn’t show on his face.

“So,” he says, then clears his throat. Cas looks over at him curiously. “Your brother said those two guys were together, I think?”

Castiel tilts his head and smiles. “You mean they’re married?”

“Oh, ugh, I don’t know.” Dean looks down, shuffles his feet. “Maybe? Or not. Maybe they’re just brothers.”

When Dean looks up, Cas looks as if he’s about to say something, but then the elevator stops and they’re greeted by Sam, Kevin, and Charlie standing in the hallway.

“I think we’re done,” Sam says, moving forward to help Dean with his box. Dean pushes him back and handles it himself.

“There are a few more boxes in the car, and a plant,” Cas says.

“Yeah, the guys went down one last time for them.”

“Do we get beers for offering our help?” asks Kevin.

Charlie hits him lightly on the head with her hand. “If only your mother could hear you now, young man.”

“Whyyy? There should be a party!”

“Should I remind you you’re not 21 yet?”

“That never stopped _you_.”

Benny, Abner, and Gadreel appear on the stairs with their boxes and move towards the flat.

“There will be a party, Kevin, don’t worry,” Abner says with a friendly smile. “You’re all invited.”

“Oh, how cool,” Kevin and Charlie say at the same time.

“Thank you all for your help,” Gadreel says, still visibly more official and tense than his friend. “We couldn’t have imagined a warmer welcome.”

Everyone bids them goodbye and the new neighbours disappear inside their apartment. Benny claps Dean on the shoulder and turns towards the stairs, followed by Kevin. 

“Did you see any rings?” Charlie stage-whispers to Sam.

Sam shakes his head with a curious expression on his face. Dean rolls his eyes and looks over at Cas.

“See ya,” he says with a smile.

Cas smiles back. “Goodbye, Dean,” he answers and heads upstairs.

When Dean turns towards his brother and his best friend, they’re both standing at the end of the hallway, looking at him and wearing matching grins.

“What?” he grunts. “I hope you made dinner, Sam, ‘cause I’m freaking starving.”

“Ugh, there’s some leftover pasta?” Sam says sheepishly.

“Oooh, nice!” Charlie says with another wide smile. “I’ll bring beer.”

Dean rolls his eyes and unlocks the door.

✱✱✱

“Are you sure,” Dean asks, sauntering over to where Jo is pouring herself a glass of homemade punch, “you should be drinking this stuff? It has _alcohol_ in it, kid.”

Jo makes a face. “Get out of my face, Winchester, or I’ll _punch you_ ,” she says.

Dean laughs and sticks out a hand with his empty cup. Jo eyes him sceptically for a moment and Dean raises an eyebrow. “Do it or I’m telling your mom.”

“I’ll be 21 in two months, for God’s sake,” she says, long-suffering, but pours Dean a drink anyway. “ _Everyone_ is drinking tonight.”

Dean looks around, gaze sliding over his neighbours and friends, all tucked into Gadreel and Abner’s new flat. It’s been almost two weeks since they moved in and so far they seem nice and non-problematic. 

Plus, they’ve made this killer punch.

Dean notices Alex and Claire, two high school juniors and step-sisters that live with Jody Mills on the second floor. Both of them hold glasses full of something transparent and water-like.

“What are _they_ drinking?” Dean asks.

“Vodka, probably? High schoolers are _wild_ these days, grandpa,” Jo teases.

“Wait till Jody finds out,” Dean says, ignoring the jibe. 

“Finds out about what?” asks Ellen, appearing right beside them all of a sudden. 

Jo attempts to hide her cup from her mother, but Ellen is quick to catch her wrist. 

“ _Mom_ ,” Jo groans.

“That’ll be your last cup, Joanna Beth.”

“That’s my first cup!”

“One too many.”

“Mooooom!”

Chuckling, Dean backs away from the table. He stops for one more slice of peach tart but then notices another one of his neighbours, Rowena, eyeing him from where she’s standing on the other side of the table. She smirks at him, her long red hair and strong glittery make-up jarring enough to make him turn around and forget about the tart.

Unfortunately, someone is standing almost right behind him when he tries to escape Rowena and Dean almost drops his cup when he crashes into another body.

“Hello, Dean.”

Of course, it had to be Castiel. 

Recently, Dean has been seeing him everywhere. Going to work, coming back from work, in the elevator, near the laundry room or the mailbox. If Dean’s not mistaken, he and Gabriel have been living in the building for three or four months, but Dean has never seen him so often before. 

But Dean’s not complaining — it has become easier to talk to Cas over the last two weeks. Last time, they had to spend two minutes in the elevator together and they actually started talking about books and movies instead of the weather. Sometimes Dean still gets surprised by the guy’s eyes — honestly, they are _very blue_ — but he has stopped making a complete fool out of himself.

At least that’s what he hopes.

“Hiya, Cas,” he says with an easy smile. Cas’ skin crinkles near his eyes, just like every other time Dean calls him ‘Cas’ instead of ‘Castiel’ — although Dean can still remember the look on his face when Cas first heard the nickname, the mix of surprise and joy, and the way his lips parted just a little bit. “What’s up?”

Cas actually looks up and Dean laughs at him quietly, shaking his head.

“I wanted to ask you about the movie we talked about last Thursday,” Cas says. “I seem to have forgotten its title and your description was really intriguing.”

“ _Psycho_ , man! I still can’t believe you’ve never seen it. It’s a classic,” Dean mocks good-naturedly.

“You haven’t read _Wuthering Heights_ , Dean,” Cas strikes back.

“That’s chick-lit, dude, come on,” Dean laughs.

“It’s closely linked to what seem to be your favourite genre, Dean: horror. There are ghosts and death and love—”

“Yeah, exactly. _Love_. It’s a romance, Cas!”

“It’s a _gothic romance_.”

“Yaaaaawn,” articulates Gabriel, appearing beside them with a plate full of onion rings. “Are you actually talking about books? It’s normal with my baby bro, but you, Dean? You’re wounding me.”

Dean rolls his eyes and tries to steal a ring off of his plate. Gabriel smacks his hand.

“We were in the middle of a conversation, Gabriel,” Cas says, clearly irritated. “What do you want?”

“Whoa there, grumpy much? Just wanted to hang out with ya. Are you ashamed of your family?”

“You stink of onion.” Cas wrinkles his nose.

Dean definitely does not find it adorable.

“Hey, guys,” says Sam, materialising at Dean’s right side along with Aaron and Chuck, two roommates who live in the apartment next to them. Dean’s surprised Chuck has come to the party at all — he’s an unsuccessful writer who spends all his days drinking coffee or whisky, eating pasta, and pretending to write. Aaron, on the other hand, is a college student with quite an active social life and permanently stoned college friends. Aaron has a young dog — a white Canaan puppy, Sam claims — that sometimes wakes Dean in the middle of the night. He would never — _ever_ — admit it, but he has a soft spot for the dog, which is the only reason Dean has stopped arguing with its owner.

It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he may have a soft spot for Aaron’s big brown puppy dog eyes, no matter what Sam (and Charlie) say.

Aaron smiles at him and then drops his gaze. Dean shuffles his feet, clears his throat, and drinks the rest of his punch. He doesn’t really hang out with Aaron because he always ends up flustered and irritated at himself. He wishes he could behave like a normal person, but since Aaron actually tried asking him out that one night, Dean has felt too embarrassed (and a little bit flattered) to be comfortable.

It’s not that Dean doesn’t swing that way. It’s not that Aaron isn’t cute. There’s just something ( _someone_ ) who can’t let him think about this possibility.

Dean feels he’s being watched and he lifts his head, eyes locking with Cas for a few seconds. Cas squints and maybe Dean’s imaging it, but his eyes seem to flick towards Aaron.

“Did you know it’s Gadreel’s birthday?” Sam asks, excited. “There’s an actual birthday cake, Abner’s putting candles into it right now.”

“I hope it’s chocolate,” Gabriel says, smacking his lips.

“It’s strawberry,” Sam laughs.

“Boring,” Gabriel comments.

After a moment, Abner comes out of the kitchen with the cake in his hands and a big smile on his face. Gabriel is the first to burst into song and then they’re all bellowing _Happy birthday_ and Gadreel’s face gets ridiculously red. He tries complaining, but everyone shushes him and pushes him towards the cake. After he blows out all the candles, Abner tugs him in and kisses him straight on the lips. People around them explode with applause and catcalls. Dean can see a few of his neighbours sneaking meaningful glances at each other; Gabriel holds out his hand and waits until Sam plants 20 bucks on his palm with a long-suffering sigh.

They all take turns to wish Gadreel a happy birthday and open a few bottles of champagne. Dean talks with Abner for a few moments, learns they have a leaky faucet, and promises to come over and fix it. Charlie attacks him not a long time later, sharing the news about Gadreel and Abner being engaged (“Aren’t they cute, Dean? They are totally cute!” and “I knew they couldn’t be _just friends_ , Dean. Told you my gay-dar is spot-on.”). Dean drinks one more cup of punch, chats with Benny, and spies Cas on the other end of the room, deep in conversation with Hannah from apartment 1B. They seem completely enraptured with each other so Dean gives up on trying to talk to him again. 

The party ends soon after and Dean’s heart may or may not do a happy dance when Cas smiles at him just before he disappears upstairs.

✱✱✱

 

When Dean first hears the moan, he’s convinced it’s still a part of his dream. He feels hot beneath his comforter so he tosses it aside and squirms in bed, eyes still shut.

But then he distinctly hears the repeating creaking of the old bed and the loud, unmistakable thuds. His eyes fly open. He’s definitely not dreaming anymore and it seems someone is having very noisy sex right above him.

His head feels dizzy for a few moments. Damn Charlie and her stupid TV shows. He watched _Sense8_ before bed again and got surprised (and pleasantly hard) by the hot orgy scene that happened in episode six. Quite obviously, his dreams got a little misty, as well, and now he’s being woken up and has to listen to some seriously pornographic pants and growls? For God’s sake, he has to get up in five hours.

He tries to fall back asleep, but when after five more minutes someone is _still_ going at it, he throws the covers aside and gets up.

He realises he’s never visited his neighbours before when he’s knocking furiously at the door of Gabriel and Castiel’s apartment. The door opens just when he’s about to knock on it for the third time.

“Dean?” 

Cas stands there, sleep-dishevelled and bewildered, wearing a thin t-shirt and a pair of loose checked boxers. Dean’s gaze focuses on Cas’ muscular thighs and before he has time to process any of this, he asks, “Are you seriously _not hearing this_?”

Cas’ eyebrows furrow. Dean gestures towards the loft and they both freeze just in time to hear a prolonged moan and a slap.

“ _Seriously_ ,” Dean repeats, exasperated.

Cas blinks a few times, then shakes his head as if trying to get rid of the sound.

“I was asleep before they started. I didn’t hear it,” he explains earnestly.

Dean opens his mouth to respond, but then the door inside the loft opens and he notices a tall redhead in an oversized t-shirt heading their way. Dean’s brain refuses to work properly when she grins at them both and passes through the door, merely a foot away from him.

“I guess he’s finished now,” Cas comments, completely unfazed.

Dean tears his eyes away from their neighbour — it really _was_ Abaddon, an unbelievably hot fitness instructor from the loft opposite of Cas who is at least a head taller than Gabriel. Dean looks back at Cas, who’s leaning sleepily on the doorframe and gazing at Dean through half-lidded eyes.

“Okay. Uh. Sorry for waking you up, then,” Dean stammers, waves awkwardly at Cas, and bolts.

He ends up under the spray of hot water, his forehead on the cold bathroom tiles and his hand between his legs, visions of long red hair and a sinuous body fueling his arousal. When he comes, it’s with the image of blue eyes and the thought of strong thighs embracing his hips.

Damn libido.


	2. Chapter 2

## episode two

_oh, I think I'm into you  
how much do you want me too?_

  


“It’s closed,” Sam says from the passenger seat.

Dean parks on the curb and looks through the window at the building across the street. The glass door to the coffee shop is covered with a non-transparent foil with a small piece of paper taped to it from the inside.

“What does it say?” Dean asks, squinting at the sign.

“For sale,” Sam reads out loud. His face tells the story of how Dean feels right now: betrayed. They always order coffee here when they come back from their monthly visits to Bobby.

“What? Why?” Dean bemoans. “I need my dose of over-priced caffeine.”

“Maybe we can go someplace else.”

“Are you shitting me? Let’s just… go home.”

Sam sends him an amused look. “There’s no cherry pie at home.”

“ _Someplace else_ does not have that exact cherry pie, either.” Dean purses his lips and looks out the window again. “This sucks.”

“Come on, Dean. Stop sulking. I’m sure other places have good over-priced coffee, too. And cherry pie,” Sam says, laughing.

“I bet they don’t have that cute blonde waitress,” Dean mutters and turns the keys in the ignition. “Seriously, though. This was, like, the only one of those hipster coffee places that I liked. Why would they close?”

“Inflation?” Sam shrugs. “We just gotta find you another place, there are like a million of them around here. Oh, there’s one!”

“Looks shitty,” Dean comments without looking at the building Sam is pointing to.

Sam raises one eyebrow. “Yeah, right. What about that one?”

“Too crowded.” Dean pushes the gas pedal a little harder.

“There were literally like five people in there.”

“Whatever.”

“Starbucks?” Sam mocks.

Dean just looks at him.

“Fine. You choose.” Sam crosses his arms over his chest and looks away, mumbling under his breath.

Dean ignores him and heads home, hoping to find something on the streets in the general vicinity of their apartment. It takes him five minutes of driving around the South Park, but finally he spots a grey and black sign proudly pointing to a small cafe called _Milton Manor_. He leaves Sam in the car without another word and goes in.

The coffee shop is empty except for someone bustling behind the counter. Dean takes in the spacious interior, scarce decoration, and a colourful palette of coffee cans and boxes stuffed into the high shelves and decides he kind of likes it here already.

“Hello?” he says out loud and bangs his knuckles against the black wooden counter.

For a moment all he can see is a mess of dark hair barely visible from where the person seems to be crouching on the other side of the bar. There’s a clang of glass and then the person stands up in a hurry and Dean is faced with a familiar pair of blue eyes and a jaw with permanent stubble.

“Cas? What— Do you work here?” Dean asks, befuddled. 

Cas tilts his head, then points to the black apron he has tied around his waist. “Temporarily, yes. Hello, Dean. What can I get you?”

“I thought you were a banker or something?” Dean leans forward a little, curious. “What do you mean temporarily?”

“I am — _was_ — an accountant, you’re correct,” Cas says, then goes over to the espresso machine. “Do you want coffee?”

“Ugh, sure, yeah. Two, actually. One black, no sugar. And a latte,” Dean says, distracted by the way Cas’ fingers curl around the handle of a portafilter and start filling it with ground coffee. “So what, is this a part-time job or something?”

Cas places two to-go coffee cups on the machine and presses some buttons, then looks over his shoulder at Dean.

“You could say so. Gabriel’s employee is currently travelling through Europe and I’m filling in for her.”

“Gabriel?” Dean watches, fascinated, as Cas expertly froths milk as if he has never done anything else in his life. “This is your brother’s place?”

Cas nods while pouring espresso into the milk. 

“Nice. Didn’t know that.” Dean looks around, weirded out by the fact that he likes what he sees. This is definitely not what he would have expected from Gabe — it should either be too fancy for Dean to ever place his foot inside or sickeningly cute and pretty. 

He looks back at Cas when the man puts two cups in front of him.

“Oh. Thanks. Is that cinnamon?” Dean asks and points to one of the jars standing by the register. 

“Cinnamon sugar, yes.”

Dean dumps some of it into the latte, then looks up at Cas. 

“This is for Sam, by the way. I would never drink this crap,” he clarifies.

Cas’ mouth quirks up. “Of course, Dean.”

“I drink coffee, Cas, not _milk_.”

“Obviously.”

“So.” Dean tracks the rim of the cup with his finger. “You got fired or something?”

“No, I left on my own accord. It was my decision,” Cas says grimly.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“I’m not,” he answers with a small smile and then, seeing Dean taking out his wallet, he holds up a hand. “Dean. It’s on the house.”

“What?” Dean blinks stupidly at him. “Come on, man. Let me pay for my coffee.”

Cas places a hand over Dean’s wallet, inadvertently covering his fingers as well, then gently pushes it away. “I insist.”

“Dude, you can’t just give away coffee like that. Gabriel’s gonna kill you.” Dean pockets his wallet and shakes his head with a small chuckle.

“I don’t _give away coffee_. I’m just giving it to you so that you’ll come back here again next time you need caffeine,” Cas says plainly, and Dean nearly drops the cups. “My brother won’t mind.”

“O-okay,” Dean stutters, feeling the points of his ears turn hot. Did Cas just flirt with him? Dean gazes up through his lashes, but Cas has already turned back to clean the coffee machine. He probably just said it to be nice. Right?

Cas glances at him over his shoulder again and raises his brow in a silent question. Dean realises he’s still just standing there like an idiot and flushes even more.

“Okay,” he repeats. “Thanks, man. Ugh, see you, then?”

“Goodbye, Dean,” Cas answers patiently.

Dean almost sprints out of the coffee shop and into the Impala. Sam scowls at him when he pushes the two cups into his hands.

“What took you so long?” he asks and takes a sip of his latte. Satisfied, he nods to himself and turns to Dean. “Whoa, no pie?”

Dammit. He forgot the pie.

✱✱✱

His second visit to the coffee shop is distinctly longer and there’s a slice of strawberry pie involved. 

“Man,” Dean says with his mouth full, “can I marry your brother?”

Castiel squints at him over his cup of chai latte. “Same-sex marriages are legal in all states in the US. Yes, Dean, you _can_. I’m not entirely sure what his reaction would be, though.”

Dean chokes on a piece of crust. “I’m just kidding, dude. It was a _joke_.”

Cas smirks and looks down. “So was mine.”

Dean chuckles, shaking his head, and then spends good thirty seconds staring at the spot just below Cas’ right ear. Cas is busy trying to shape the milk foam in his drink into something resembling a heart but when he lifts his head to stare at Dean, too, Dean is quick to look away.

“So, honestly, Cas. What the hell is this song?” he asks after what seems like a few small eternities of awkward silence. 

“I don’t know. It’s Gabriel’s playlist.” Cas is frowning when Dean glances at him again. He seems to be noticing the background rap music for the first time. “It sounds angry.”

“It sounds _crappy_. I never thought I’d say this, but I’d rather listen to the ultra-douchy indie shit that’s playing in Starbucks than _this_ —”

“Who dares to trash-talk Kanye in my own establishment?”

Dean spins on his chair to face Gabriel coming through the door. 

“Your establishment is fine but it plays crappy music,” Dean says with a noncommittal shrug.

“No more pie for this man, you hear me, Cas?” Gabriel goes behind the counter and starts messing with the iPod set up on one of the shelves. The hip hop music stops, replaced by a loud pop song with an annoying male vocal. 

“This is probably even worse,” Dean comments and pops the last piece of the pie into his mouth.

Gabriel points a threatening finger at him. “Shut up or I’m playing Beyoncé.” 

The lines on Cas’ forehead smooth out. “I actually do enjoy her music.” 

“ _Et tu_ , Cas?” Dean groans.

“Well, she _is_ the queen,” Gabe muses.

“Could you play _Single Ladies_?” Cas asks, turning towards his brother.

“That’s it.” Dean pushes the empty plate away and quickly drinks the rest of his coffee. “I’m leaving.”

“You got it, bro! _Now put your hands up_!” Gabriel intones joyfully.

“I’m actually not surprised you barely have any customers,” Dean says but doesn’t move from his chair.

Gabriel pokes Cas with a finger. “Ah, I don’t think Dean-o here is gonna put a ring on it.”

Dean scowls at him. “I really don’t wanna know what you’re talking about.”

Cas leans over the counter and stops with his mouth just a few inches from Dean’s ear. All thoughts of leaving the cafe momentarily escape Dean’s head.

“If you like it then you should put a ring on it,” Cas half-whispers.

Gabriel sniggers and Dean glares at him, praying that his embarrassment at Cas’ closeness won’t show on his face. 

“ _It_?” he asks gruffly.

Cas shrugs and backs away.

“She’s _probably_ talking about her finger,” Gabriel says ironically. “But who knows?”

Dean lets him babble for some time and tunes him out, instead spending a few long moments watching Cas, who starts cleaning the espresso machine, eyes laser-focused, hands skilful, mouth slightly parted when he mutters song lyrics under his breath. Cas seems at ease, relaxed, and unbothered by Dean’s gaping even though he catches him once or twice, sending back an equally thoughtful stare.

Dean realises Gabriel asked him a question when his face appears right in front of him, blocking Cas from his view.

“Ground control?” Gabriel asks, eyebrows raised.

“Uh,” Dean baulks. “What?”

“I said ‘I’m crazy in love with your dear little brother and we’ve been dating secretly for many years now, may we have your blessing?’” Gabriel deadpans.

“We’ve only known you for, like, four months,” Dean says, confused.

“Oh, but you’re okay with us being lovers?” Gabriel cackles. “Good to know.”

“You’re a freak, anyone ever told you that?”

Gabriel jabs a thumb at his brother, still busy polishing the coffee maker. “He does, every morning. I take it with my coffee.”

“Good. Keep it up, Cas,” Dean answers and, when Cas looks over at him curiously, he winks before he has any chance to stop himself.

Gabriel sends him an amused glance and props his hands on the counter right in front of Dean. “What I actually said was: I didn’t know you knew about this place.”

Dean scratches the empty plate with his fork. “I just found out yesterday. Our favourite coffee place closed and I didn’t want to go to Starbucks.”

“Your ‘favourite coffee place’?” Gabriel asks suspiciously. “Which one was it?” 

“Ugh, Peet’s, I think? I liked their pie.”

Gabriel narrows his eyes. “You got something against my pie?” 

“What? Dude, no. I never said that.”

“He actually said he wanted to marry you,” Cas says in a serious voice. “Because he liked your pie so much.”

“Huh.” Gabriel rips the rag out of Castiel’s hands and moves away to clean the counter, his eyes still not leaving Dean’s face. “So now that they’re closed and you’ve discovered my god-like pie-baking abilities, is Milton Manor your favourite coffee shop?”

Dean blinks, the fork still moving over the plate. “Maybe. If you change the music.”

“Oh, honey, the music stays. So, tell me, Dean. How often do you plan to come here and distract my one and only employee?”

The fork scrapes the plate with a loud, unpleasant squeak. A hand lands on Dean’s hand to stop it from moving again. Dean looks up and sees Cas, a soft flush on his cheeks and his wide eyes boring into Dean’s.

“Please, stop doing this,” Cas says without moving to take away his hand.

Dean swallows, nods, and then looks over at Gabriel. “I’m not distracting him,” he says, his throat dry.

Gabriel’s eyes flick down to the place where Dean’s and Cas’ hands are still touching. He raises one eyebrow.

“Uh-huh,” he mutters and turns on his heel, throwing the rag over his shoulder. “In that case, that’ll be ten bucks for the coffee and pie. Thanks for choosing our cafe and we hope to see you again soon!”

Cas finally removes his hand and Dean backs away, placing both his palms on his knees beneath the counter. 

“You kicking me out?” he asks and shoots Cas a confused look. Cas shrugs instead of answering and frowns after the retreating form of his brother.

Gabriel stops and looks over at them. “Yup. It’s almost seven, Dean-o, and we’re closing.”

“It’s seven?” Dean asks loudly. “Crap! I was supposed to bring Sam dinner after work.” He stands up, shaking his head, and hands Cas the money with a smile that’s only a little awkward. “Sorry, man. I didn’t realise it was so late.”

“Me neither,” Cas says earnestly. “You don’t have to apologise, Dean. I enjoyed your company today.”

Dean grins stupidly at him, taking in his nice blue eyes and his nice sunny smile. Then he remembers about Gabriel standing just a few feet away, blinks, and looks away, flustered.

“Okay. Okay, then. Uh, see you, guys?” he mutters, turns away, and goes out of the cafe before any of them has a chance to respond.

✱✱✱

Dean is just about to start on making breakfast when the smoke alarm in the building goes off.

He closes the fridge and slowly heads towards the door. It’s a Friday morning and half of the building, including Sam, is out at work, school, or anywhere else people usually go. It’s probably just a false alarm, too — the smoke detectors in the halls are old and tricky, ready to go off even in the middle of the night. 

He quickly notices that it is not the alarm on their floor and stands still for a moment, trying to identify the direction from which the sound is coming. He hears the door open and when he turns, he sees Chuck standing in front of his flat in nothing but a grey robe and with a half empty glass of something brown in his hands. 

“Do you smell smoke?” Chuck asks and looks around anxiously.

Dean inhales deeply and raises his eyebrows. “Huh. Yeah. Something’s burning.”

“I think it’s coming from upstairs,” Chuck suggests, and when Dean nods and moves towards the stairs, he waves and disappears inside his flat.

Dean shrugs and climbs up. The smell of smoke isn’t too noticeable but it’s enough for Dean to start visualising Gabriel setting his entire apartment on fire just for the fun of it, running around it, and throwing things into the flames to make it bigger.

The image he’s greeted by when he gets upstairs is actually much more normal and pleasant.

Castiel is standing in the middle of the hall, wearing tight yoga pants and a black tank top, waving a kitchen rag against the smoke detector on the ceiling.

“Hiya, Cas,” Dean says conversationally. “What are you doing?”

Cas looks at him, noticing him for the first time, and lowers his arms. “It won’t stop beeping,” he complains.

“Maybe you should stop blowing at it.”

Cas frowns. “I just wanted to get rid of the smoke.”

“I don’t see any smoke,” Dean says. “I’m pretty sure you got rid of it.”

“So why won’t it stop beeping?” Cas asks, clearly frustrated. He glowers at the detector as if it’s his biggest enemy, but looks down when Dean approaches him. He blinks, blue eyes wide and apologetic. “Dean. I’m sorry. I must have woken up the entire building.”

“What time do you think it is, dude?” Dean laughs. He wants to pat Cas on the shoulder but in the last second realises he would have to touch Cas’ naked skin and he retracts his hand. “It’s almost ten, no one’s sleeping any longer, and if they are… well, they should finally get their lazy asses outta beds.”

Cas tilts his head. “I often sleep until noon on my days off.”

“Well, you’re weird,” Dean says with a grin, and then he points at the detector. “Do you have a stool? I can mute it, but it’s too high.”

“Yes, of course.” 

Dean watches as Cas hurries back to his flat, his eyes involuntarily sliding down the man’s well-formed backside. He fights off the flush that threatens to appear on his face, especially when Cas returns with a short stool in his hands. Dean tries not to look at his lean arms and slender fingers when he takes the stool from him.

“I didn’t know there was a mute button,” Cas ponders, watching Dean climb the chair and try to catch balance. “Please, be careful.”

“I don’t need to be care— Shit.” Dean’s whole body sways and he immediately tears his gaze off Cas’ face and looks up instead. “Stop staring, you’ll make me fall.”

“I’ll catch you,” Cas says. Anyone else would have said it as a joke, but Cas’ voice is as serious as always. Dean curses again.

“No need for that,” he mutters, reaches up, and pokes the mute button on the detector. The annoying sound cuts off, but instead of a blissful silence, Dean’s greeted with a quieter chirping coming from Cas’ flat.

They look at each other and Cas smiles awkwardly. 

“I couldn’t turn that one off either,” he explains.

Dean rolls his eyes and moves to jump off the stool but then he feels Cas’ hand on the small of his back, slowly guiding him down to the floor. Dean gazes at him, surprised, but doesn’t move away and allows Cas to place his other hand on Dean’s arm.

“Thanks,” he mutters and swallows with difficulty when Cas smiles shyly at him.

They both move towards the door and Cas holds it open for him. Dean goes inside and looks around with curiosity. Castiel and Gabriel’s loft is twice the size of his and Sam’s apartment and it’s enough to look at the spacious hallway which smoothly turns into a vast living-slash-dining room to notice it. Cas leads him through the flat, in the direction of an open kitchen area. There are four high bar stools situated in front of the long white counter, not unlike Gabriel’s coffee shop. Dean spots a blackened pan lying in the sink and raises an eyebrow.

“What were you doing, Cas?” he asks over the loud beeping.

Cas sends him a gloomy stare. “Breakfast.”

Dean snorts out loud and places the stool near the stove to reach the smoke detector glued to the brick wall surrounding the grand kitchen window. Cas’ hand stops him before he can climb up and mute the device, though.

“Can I try?” 

Dean shrugs and backs away, watching as Cas gets up onto the stool gracefully and without hesitation. He seems too nimble to need any help, but Dean’s fingers tingle when he imagines placing his hand on Cas’ athletic thigh to support him.

“...Dean?” 

Dean blinks out of his reverie and looks up to see Cas staring down at him, one hand close to the detector. He clears his throat and takes one precarious step back.

“Yeah?”

“There are two buttons here.”

“Ugh. Okay. Press the one that says _mute_.”

“There is no inscription here.” Cas squints at the detector, then looks down at Dean. “They both look exactly the same.”

Dean thinks for a second. “Okay, one must be a test button, so just try pressing any of them.”

Cas doesn’t look convinced but he pushes the left button anyway. The beeping stops.

“Told ya.” Dean grins.

Cas hops off the stool, looking sheepish. “Thank you, Dean.”

“No problem.” Dean waves him off. “Those things freak out all the time, even when there’s no actual smoke anywhere. At least you didn’t burn the whole building down,” he jokes.

Cas goes over to the sink and looks miserably at the blackened pan. “No, but the eggs are inedible.”

Dean chuckles and inches towards him, curious. “How do you even _burn eggs_ like that?” 

“Uhm.” Cas scratches his exposed neck. Dean tries not to stare at the red marks his fingernails leave on his skin. “I forgot about them.”

“You forgot about breakfast? What were you doing?” Dean asks incredulously. 

Cas gestures at his clothes. “Yoga.”

Dean’s brain short-circuits for a few moments. Cas looks up at him, face hopeful.

“Did you eat, Dean?”

“Uh.” Dean forcefully pulls his thoughts away from the image of Cas bending at the waist, wearing nothing but the slim-fit black pants which leave little to the imagination. “What?”

“Breakfast. I still have some toast left and I was about to make coffee. Would you like to join me?”

“What if you burn the toast, too?” Dean asks stupidly.

“Well, you’re here now. You can help me if you want,” Cas says, eyes never leaving Dean’s face. If it was anyone else, the words would sound as if taken straight out of bad porn, but Cas’ tone stays neutral.

Dean can feel his cheeks go red anyway, so he looks around the flat to hide it. “Where’s your brother?”

“He’s working today.” Cas presses his lips together. “I understand you probably have to go to work, too, and I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time.”

“Ah, no.” Dean smiles. “I’ve got a day off.”

“Me, too,” Cas replies.

“I’ve noticed.” Dean laughs.

Cas’ skin crinkles near his eyes when he smiles back. “I’ve been told I make very good coffee.”

“Yeah, I know.” 

Dean combs a hand through his hair, thinking. Getting breakfast together must mean entering some new level of friendship, probably, and it’s not that Dean doesn’t want that, but sometimes he still feels like he barely knows the guy. On the other hand, eating one breakfast with him won’t hurt, right? Worst case scenario: it’ll be awkward as hell and they won’t talk to each other ever again, which, okay, sounds _not cool_ , but Dean thinks he can live with that.

“Okay, then,” he says, meeting Cas’ eyes. “You make coffee, I’ll take care of toast.”

For a moment, Cas looks as if he’s about to protest, but then he glances at the smoke detector, chuckles, and nods.

✱✱✱

Dean had no idea Charlie would invite Castiel, so when he and Gabriel enter her apartment somewhere around nine, Dean is in the middle of describing the next cliffhanger of their D&D session. Charlie calls “Keep going, I’m listening!” and stands up to play the host for the brothers. Dean feels self-conscious and gets stuck for a full minute, but when Sam and Jo both yell at him at the same time, he finishes introducing a new villain and promptly glues himself to his beer bottle.

“Cas got your tongue, gamemaster?” Gabriel asks, smirking, and then theatrically covers his mouth with a hand. “Oops. I meant _cat_.”

“No, you didn’t,” Kevin laughs.

“Whatever.” Dean gathers his notebook and scowls. “Are we done here?”

“You did great, gamemaster,” Charlie says, grinning, 

“Please, don’t call me that,” Dean mutters. 

Charlie ignores him and turns to Cas. “It’s a shame you didn’t get to see him. He was on fire today!”

“Shut up,” Dean groans, avoiding looking Cas in the eye, even though he can feel the other man’s curious gaze on him. 

“I don’t really know this game,” Cas says, “but you’re right, I’d love to see you all play.”

“Well, then next time, be punctual!” Charlie says and punches Cas on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry. It’s Sunday and we were both working until six today, and then Gabriel insisted on baking a pie for you…”

“You brought pie?” Dean perks up from where he’s standing near the table, pretending not to be eavesdropping. 

Cas smiles at him. “I hope you like pecan.”

“Dude, it’s only, like, my favourite.” He slides closer and offers Cas a beer. “Did you bring eggs?” he jokes.

Cas shakes his head and laughs but doesn’t answer. Dean catches Charlie giving him a weird look and he shrugs.

“Oookay, then,” she says and claps her hands. “I’m gonna go take the pizza outta the oven. You guys go take your seats and get ready for some taboo!”

“We’re playing taboo again?” Kevin groans and slumps in his chair. “I hate this game.”

“That’s ‘cause you suck at it,” Jo teases. 

“Just calm down and stop yelling so much,” Sam says. “It’ll be easier to understand what you’re trying to say.”

Dean nudges Cas with his elbow and they join the others sitting around the table. Cas greets everyone and sits down on the couch. Dean plops right next to him with a slice of Gabe’s pie stolen straight from the pan. 

“Hey, where did you get the pie?” Jo asks.

“Stop eating pie, we’re having pizza!” Charlie comes out of the kitchen with three big plates balanced in her hands. Sam runs up to help her carry them to the table. 

“I like this party,” Gabriel says.

“I didn’t even know you guys were coming,” Kevin says. “Are you players, too?”

“Never played board games in my life,” Gabriel says with a grin.

“That’s not entirely true,” Cas adds.

“What? You told me you love board games!” Charlie cries.

Gabriel winks at her. “That’s called lying, princess. I just wanted to be one of you and be invited to your cool nerd party! I felt excluded.”

“I’m not a princess,” Charlie says.

“We’re not nerds,” Dean sulks.

“Yes, you are,” Gabriel answers with a shit-eating grin. “Also, you said you’re one player short tonight because someone was busy doing something else, blah blah blah. So, here we are!”

“Where’s Benny again?” Kevin asks.

“Andrea,” Dean says and rolls his eyes. 

“But, wait,” Jo mumbles with her mouth full of pizza. She swallows and raises her eyebrow at Gabriel. “Now there’s seven of us, you genius.”

“So what?”

“So, we need an even number to play taboo,” Charlie says.

“Maybe let’s _not_ play taboo, then!”

“Shut up, Kev. Cas, Gabe, you ever played?” When both brothers shake their heads, Charlie points at them with a slice of pizza. “Okay, so you count as one person ‘cause you have less experience.”

“They have _no_ experience,” Jo says. “I don’t wanna be on their team. No offence, guys.”

“ _A lot of_ offence, Harvelle! How dare you,” Gabriel mocks.

“Let’s divide ourselves by the seats. Jo, Kev, and Sam, you’re together,” Charlie says, pointing at the other side of the table. “I’ll join Dean and our two-headed inexperienced monster and we’re gonna kick your ass.”

Dean moves on the couch to offer Charlie a place by his side and his shoulder and hip collide with Cas’. He glances at him and smiles.

“I have no idea how to play this game,” Cas says in a low voice.

Dean laughs. “Yeah. We are _so_ gonna lose.”

✱✱✱

They play for three hours straight and by the time Dean realises it’s almost midnight, his head is pleasantly buzzing and he’s squished on the couch between Charlie and Cas, laughing at Kevin’s pathetic attempts at explaining his keyword to his teammates. 

“OH MY GOD, Kev, stop yelling!” Jo shouts.

“YOU STOP YELLING!” Kevin screams back at her. “Just guess the fucking word!”

“ _Language_!” Dean and Charlie cry out at the same time and then double over with laughter.

“You sure it’s not _hairdresser_?” Sam asks.

“I told you, it’s a different word!” Kevin almost howls with frustration. “Like the Wild West! The Wild West and hair!”

“What does the Wild West have to do with hair?” 

“Not the Wild West _itself_ , but the—”

The phone in Gabriel’s hand chirps. He yells “Time’s up!” and Kevin throws the taboo card to the floor, screaming “HAIR SALON, YOU DUMB FUCKS”, while Charlie threatens to “tell his mother about it” and Jo and Sam facepalm.

“Is it always like this?” Cas says right into Dean’s ear, his warm breath ghosting over Dean’s skin.

“Pretty much, yeah,” Dean answers with a grin, trying not to move his head too much to avoid smashing faces with Cas. The couch, he thinks, is really too small for four adults. “You like it?”

“Very much,” Cas says and there’s a smile in his voice, too.

“Okay, this is the last round, guys, so let’s do this. We’ve got four more points to get and we’re gonna win,” Charlie says excitedly. “Cas, you’re up.”

Dean casually lets his hand touch Castiel’s back and push him up. He sways just a little bit and props himself on Dean’s knee for a moment. Dean giggles into his beer but tries to hide it when Charlie jabs him in the ribs.

“Focus,” she hisses.

“I am focused,” Dean shoots back and gulps the beer.

He misses Sam’s counting down and Cas’ first words, but then Charlie guesses “wings” and he latches onto Cas’ slightly slurred voice.

“It’s, ugh, it’s this place…” Cas looks straight at him, eyes wide and sparkling. “Dean, remember, you thought I worked there before I quit?”

Dean blinks. “What? Uh, wait, I know! The bank?”

“Yes!” Cas cheers and throws the card on the table. “Next. Um, Sam wants to be him after school…”

“Lawyer!” Dean, Charlie, and Sam yell at the same time.

“Yes.” Cas beams down at Dean. It makes Dean’s heart flutter joyfully in his chest. “Oh, this one is easy. I’m supposed to be very good at making it.”

“Coffee,” Dean shoots before anyone else can speak up and grins. “You’re more than good, Cas.” 

“Thank you, Dean.”

“Keep going!” Gabriel groans while Charlie orders them to “stop flirting, we’ve got one more point to go!” 

Cas blushes and looks down at the card. “Oh. Dean, we had this for breakfast…?”

“Toast!” Dean roars and throws his hands up.

The timer goes off and everyone explodes with screams and cheering. Gabriel is yelling into his ear so Dean stands up and raises his hand to high-five Cas who is smiling so wide that Dean can see his gums. He claps his palm against Dean’s and then is promptly turned by Jo who’s trying to undermine their victory.

An arm weaves around Dean’s middle and drags him away from the table and into the kitchen. Dean looks down at Charlie and smirks.

“Are we gonna make out?” he teases.

Charlie punches him in the shoulder. “You sly dog! You didn’t tell me you hooked up with Cas!”

Dean’s eyes almost jump out of his face. “...WHAT?”

Charlie gestures towards the living room. “Cas? I knew you guys had something going on, but now _breakfast_? _Coffee_? How could you not tell me!”

“Oh my God, Charlie,” Dean gasps. “I didn’t hook up with Cas.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I am definitely _not_ shitting you. Believe me, I’d know if I hooked up with Cas.”

“So what was that all about?” Charlie asks urgently. “You both have some crazy chemistry between you.”

“Shut up, we don’t,” Dean hisses. “I mean, it’s not like that. It was just one breakfast.”

Charlie bursts out laughing. “Oh my God, Winchester, how on earth do you end up having breakfast with the guy without getting into his pants first?”

“This is all the eggs’ fault,” Dean mutters and rolls his eyes when Charlie almost falls down, laughing. 


	3. Chapter 3

## episode three

_space is just a word  
made up by someone who's afraid to get close_

  


Dean stomps into the elevator, punches the button, and exhales heavily. A few more moments and he’ll be at home, where he’ll be able to change out of his soaked clothes, pop open a nice bottle of beer, and finally relax on the couch in front of the TV. No more annoying clients, no more traffic, no more unexpected rainstorms.

“Hold the door!”

Dean gasps but turns around to stop the door from sliding shut before the owner of that outrageous sense of humour can run inside as well. He hears quick footsteps and loud breathing and then Castiel marches into the elevator.

“Dude, not cool,” Dean says before he can register the state Cas is in: drenched from the top of his head down to his toes. He’s wearing a black jogging suit, now clinging to his body. There’s water dripping from Cas’ dark hair and some of it has caught in his eyelashes, too. 

Dean stops staring only when the elevator door closes and Cas gets pushed inside and closer to him.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says, a little out of breath. “I would say it is quite cool right now, especially outside.”

“What?” Dean blinks, confused. Cas smells like summer rain. “Oh, _that_. No, I just meant the phrase.” 

Cas tilts his head, clearly not understanding. He still hasn’t moved from his place right in front of Dean, even though the elevator is already moving up.

“‘ _Hold the door_ ’?” Dean quotes. “ _Game of Thrones_? No? Nothing?” he asks when Cas shakes his head. “Buddy, we need to work on your pop culture references.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s important! It’s how people communicate these days. Plus, _Game of Thrones_ is awesome.”

“If you say so,” Cas replies. He looks down at his soaked clothes. “I’m very wet.”

Dean tries to keep a straight face. “I’ve noticed. Did you run all the way home in this rain or what?”

“Considering I’ve been jogging — yes, I did. The storm caught me off-guard.”

“Tell me about it,” Dean mutters.

“Well, I’d managed to run all the way to the Embarcadero and—”

Dean barks out a laugh. “No, dude, you don’t actually have to _tell me_ about your jogging. Although, whoa, how many miles was that?”

Cas takes a phone out of his pocket and glances at it. “I would tell you, but unfortunately, my battery has died. But it was quite a big distance.”

“Nice. I didn’t know you—”

Dean is interrupted by a loud crash and a violent shake of the elevator. He barely has time to look up at Cas with alarm and then the light goes out. 

The only thing Dean can hear in the silence that follows is his own nervous breathing.

“What’s going on?” Dean whispers and his hand involuntarily reaches out to check if Cas is still there. “Cas? What’s just happened?”

He hears some rustling and then something heavy lands on his shoulder. 

“I think there’s been a power outage,” Cas answers in a quiet voice. Dean can feel Cas’ hand sliding down his arm in a soothing manner. “Dean, are you okay?”

“What? Yeah. Are we stuck?”

Cas’ warm fingers tighten around Dean’s bicep. “That is the most likely theory, yes. Are you claustrophobic?”

Dean steps back and Cas’ hand disappears from his forearm. He fumbles for his phone and lights it up.

“No. Are you?” He points the phone at Cas’ face to be able to see him, but Cas squirms away as soon as the light hits his eyes. 

“No, as far as I know. What are you doing?” 

Dean gently shoves him away to reach the elevator panel and illuminate it with his phone. “Looking for the alarm button. Believe me, you don’t want to be stuck in here for too long if there’s a power outage.”

“I don’t want to be stuck in here at all,” Cas mumbles. “Is the alarm working?”

Dean pushes the button a few more time and winces. “Nope. Can you try calling for help?”

“Alright.” Cas says, takes a deep breath, and then calls out loudly, “HELP!”

Dean jerks away and promptly starts laughing nervously. “Cas! Stop!” He pokes Cas with his hand in something he hopes is his chest or side. “I meant your phone, you dummy.”

“My phone is dead, Dean,” Cas says flatly.

“Oh, shit, right. Here, try mine. I’m just gonna press all those buttons and maybe something will work.”

Dean can see Cas thumbing through his phone and tries not to think of the very small space they’re forced to occupy together. In the dark, his other senses seem unnaturally stronger and the rainy smell of Cas standing right behind him is starting to make his head spin.

“There’s no reception,” Cas says, voice low and throaty and causing all Dean’s nerve endings tingle with excitement. 

“Awesome,” Dean mumbles. “Well, now you’re more than welcome to scream.”

Cas moves and pressed closer to Dean. “We shouldn’t waste too much energy. We don’t know how long we’re going to be trapped here.”

“But we gotta do something, right?” Dean slams his hand against the metal door. “Hey! Anyone! HEY!”

After a few seconds, Cas joins him and starts banging his fists into the walls as well. They spend minutes like that, calling out and hitting their bare hands against the metal and then, finally, there’s a loud crash somewhere above them and some muffled voices.

“WHAT?” Dean screams. He turns to where he thinks Cas is standing on his left. “Did you get it?”

“No, but someone definitely noticed we’re here. I think we may stop yelling now.”

“Thank God,” Dean mutters and slides down the wall and onto the floor. “I hope they get us out soon. Do you think we’re gonna run out of air?”

He can hear Cas moving somewhere above him and then something heavy crushes the hand he’s laid out on the floor.

“Owww! FUCK! Cas!”

“Dean? What—”

“You fucking stepped on my hand, dude!”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Cas breathes out, his voice weirdly close to Dean’s face. “It wasn’t my foot.”

“What? Did you _sit on me_?” Dean gasps.

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Oh my God. How do you manage to jog and do freaking yoga and still be so clumsy?”

“I am not clumsy,” Cas says grumpily. “In case you didn’t notice, it’s dark and I can’t see anything. Just keep your hands to yourself and you won’t get sat on.”

“Oh my God, I am keeping my hands to myself! What the fuck, Cas!”

“I only meant… Just… Don’t leave them lying around the floor.”

“I’m not leaving _my hands_ lying around the floor.” Dean laughs out loud. “God, you’re such a weirdo sometimes.”

Cas mumbles something in response, but Dean doesn’t understand it. He’s quite sure, though, that Cas must be sulking right now, and he would give a lot to see the look on his face. 

“What did you do with my phone?” he asks.

Cas shifts beside him. “Oh. I forgot. It’s in my pocket.”

Dean chuckles. “Give me back my phone, you thief.”

“I didn’t intend to steal it, Dean.”

“Of course.”

“Dean—”

“Yeah, I believe you. Now give it back.”

“Give me your hand,” Cas says.

“What? Why?” 

“I don’t want to drop it, break it, and have you accusing me of destroying your phone. Where’s your hand?”

“Oh God, you’re such a smartass,” Dean says, chuckling, and then thrusts his arm out. “Here. Got it?”

Warm fingers wrap around Dean’s wrist and suddenly he’s glad it’s so dark in the elevator because no one can see his blush. Cas places the phone on his palm and closes his fingers around it.

“You know,” Dean murmurs and unlocks the phone. The light illuminates the inside of the elevator and Dean notices how close they are sitting. “You could’ve just turned it on and seen where I am.”

Cas doesn’t answer and Dean doesn’t risk looking up at his face. Instead, he busies himself with checking his battery level. It’s low, barely 20%, which means they shouldn’t risk turning on the flashlight. Well, then.

He hears movement again; something hits him lightly in the arm and then he hears Cas panting softly.

“...what are you doing?” he asks.

Cas grunts and the sound makes Dean’s inside do somersaults.

“It’s starting to get really hot in here,” Cas mumbles. “I’m taking my clothes off.”

Dean’s throat goes dry. “Wha— Cas, don’t—”

“Not all of them,” Cas retorts. “Well, not yet.”

“Oh my God,” Dean mutters. Cas keeps moving and breathing loud right beside him and Dean can distinctly smell fresh sweat and rain on his skin. It must be smooth to touch, a bit sticky and so, _so_ warm. Dean thinks about Cas’ damp hair, those little dark locks curling just behind his ears and on the back of his neck, sticking to his forehead. They probably smell like ozone.

“Dean?” Cas says suddenly and Dean’s eyes close at the sound of the quiet rumble of his voice. It sounds like a thunderbolt. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean grunts out, eyes still closed.

“Your breathing has sped up,” Cas notices.

“Uhm.” Dean exhales loudly. “That’s ‘cause I’m getting hot, too. I mean, ugh. It’s getting hot. I mean—”

“You should take your clothes off, too,” Cas says.

Dean grits his teeth. He’s a hundred percent sure those words are going to fuel his next jerk-off session. Without a word, he takes off his plaid shirt and throws it to the other corner of the elevator. It does nothing to make him feel better, though.

“It didn’t work,” he complains.

“Then take off another layer.”

“I’m not getting naked with you here, Cas,” Dean huffs.

“You don’t have to get naked—”

“I’m wearing a t-shirt and jeans, there’s not much to take off anymore.”

“Oh. Okay.” Cas is silent for a beat. Then, “I’m wearing a t-shirt, too. And jogging pants.”

Dean inhales loudly. “God, Cas, you don’t have to tell me what you’re wearing!”

“I just wanted to show you I can’t really get any less hot without getting naked, either.”

“Well, it’s not helping.”

“Why?” Cas sounds genuinely confused.

“You don’t just go telling other dudes what you’re wearing, especially not when you’re both trapped in a dark elevator!” Dean grits out, frustration seeping into his voice. 

“Oh. Are you uncomfortable, Dean?”

“A little bit, yeah? Come on, it’s not exactly the most comfortable thing to do on a Wednesday evening, don’t you think?”

“I don’t really mind it that much,” Cas answers plainly. Then, after a beat of silence, he adds, “I thought we were friends.”

Dean blinks, confused, and turns his head towards Cas even though he still can barely see him. “I… We are friends, Cas. What does it have to do with anything?”

“I thought friends didn’t feel uncomfortable sitting together in dark elevators. I’m sorry I made you feel that way, Dean,” Cas apologises.

“Jesus, Cas.” Dean lets his head hang between his knees. “Stop it. It’s not your fault, man. I’m just… I just kinda really like my personal space.”

“I see. Well, I apologise again, let me just—”

Dean can’t see him but he feels that Cas starts to shuffle away from him, trying to give him more room in the small elevator. Sitting at such a big distance with Cas makes Dean feel weird, though, so before he can think this through, he reaches out and grabs Cas’ arm.

“No.” Even in the dark, he can feel Cas’ blue eyes boring into him. He clears his throat and lets go of Cas’ arm. “It’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“Okay,” Cas says, voice soft, and then his warm and naked forearm presses against Dean’s naked forearm and stays there.

Dean lets out a breath, closes his eyes, and thumps his head against the wall behind him. He really hopes someone will get them out soon.

✱✱✱

The music is terrible — something pop and electronic, with tedious lyrics and weak vocals — the apartment crowded, and the conversations loud, but for some reason, Dean is having fun. 

He gulps down a shot and grins at Benny who immediately starts pouring them another line of purple-coloured drinks. 

“Damn, this thing is good,” Dean says, eyeing the bottle in Benny’s hands. “Don’t tell Sam I said that.” 

“What, ‘cause it’s too girly for you?” Charlie mocks drunkenly. “Dude, you’re wearing a pink shirt tonight.”

“It’s not pink!” 

Dean knows his speech is starting to slur a little but he’s still pretending to be mostly sober. The better half of his neighbours are drinking and dancing around him and he doesn’t want everyone to talk about how he got wasted two hours after the party had started. 

“Kinda looks pink, buddy,” Benny says, laughter clear in his voice.

“It’s ‘cause of the light,” Dean protests, looking down at the plaid shirt he’s thrown over his old Zep tee. It’s blue, or maybe purple, and also white and, well… if he’s being totally honest with himself, there’s also pink in there, but that doesn’t mean he has to agree with his best friends. “Shut up,” he grunts and accepts a drink from Benny.

They’re all sitting in Cas’ and Gabe’s kitchen area, occupying the place most abundant with booze and snacks. The rest of the guests are dispersed around the apartment in random states of undress and inebriation, while the hosts are nowhere to be seen. Not that Dean’s looking. He couldn’t care less about Gabriel right now (though he has prepared a truly delicious variety of snacks, including two kinds of pie and one cake) and he’s definitely not wondering where Cas is. Even though the last time Dean has seen him, Cas was sitting on a couch and talking animatedly with Hannah, and now Hannah seems to be missing, too.

Dean _doesn’t care_.

He hears Charlie’s delighted voice and witnesses her own version of PDA as she throws her arms over her girlfriend Dorothy’s neck.

“You’re baaack,” Charlie sing-songs and butts her head against Dorothy’s shoulder.

“And you’re drunk,” Dorothy laughs. She wraps Charlie in her arms and drags her off the bar stool. “Let’s go find some fresh air.”

“Beware of the balcony,” Benny warns. “I’ve heard Gabriel claimed it as his making out spot.”

“Who’s the poor soul?” Dorothy asks with a grin.

“It may or may not be Abaddon.”

“Daaamn, she’s kinda hot.” Charlie giggles. “Oops! No offence, my beloved, my sunshine, my moon and stars!”

“Of course, dear,” Dorothy says patiently and retreats with Charlie draped over her shoulders.

“No more booze for you, kiddo,” Dean proclaims and gulps down another shot. Then, he stands up suddenly. “I gotta piss.”

Benny says something in response, but Dean is too concentrated on his own two feet to hear him. His head starts buzzing more forcefully the more vertical he is and the walk to the bathroom takes him a bit longer than it should.

When he emerges out of the bathroom some time later and comes back to the centre of the party, it turns out his bar stool has been taken by someone and that Benny is gone. He’s just about to start fussing but then recognises the people sitting in the kitchen.

“Hiya, girls, what’re you doin’?” he announces his presence, leaning on opposite side of the table. He eyes the stepsisters from apartment 2D, both wearing matching grins and stylish braids on their heads, and then slides his gaze over at Cas who sits beside them and holds an empty shot glass in his hand. 

Cas looks up and smiles at him lazily. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean smirks. “Hey, yourself,” he drawls. He notices the bottles in the girls’ hands and shakes his head. “Are you trying to get him drunk or something?”

Claire purses her lips. “Shh, don’t spoil the party, old man.”

Dean finds a clean glass and pushes it over the counter. “May I join?”

Alex beams and pours him a drink. Some of the liquor ends up on Dean’s fingers and the table and Dean frowns.

“Girl, you’re messy,” he snorts, tosses the drink back, and slams the glass on the counter. “Give me that. I’ll show you how to make drinks.”

“You?” Claire laughs out loud at him. “How could you know anything about—”

“I used to be a bartender, sweetheart,” Dean says casually and winks at her. “Watch and learn.”

He shows off only a little and prepares four variations of margaritas (with half of the amount of tequila for the girls — he may be a bit drunk but he remembers they’re still in high school and they live with Jody, who can be scary at times). Claire and Alex tease him while he works, but Cas beams at him and latches onto his drink as soon as Dean places a glass in front of him.

“Don’t tell your step-mom I gave you alcohol,” he warns.

“Are you afraid of her?” Claire laughs.

“She’s a scary lady,” he says. He finds a curvy straw in one of the drawers and leans over the counter to put it in Cas’ drink. The straw is blue and funky and Cas lifts his eyes at him, smiles, and puts it in his mouth. Dean looks away and gulps his drink.

“She’s here, by the way,” Alex says with a grin.

Dean splutters. “What? Jody’s here? Right now?” He tries to snatch the drinks from the girls’ hands, but they step away and laugh at him. “Stop drinking it! She’s gonna kill you. And me.”

“You? Probably.” Claire slurps her margarita. “She knows we’re drinking.”

“It’s Saturday,” Alex adds.

“So? You’re probably, like, fourteen.”

“We’re seventeen,” Claire pouts. “And Jody lets us drink sometimes, as long as we do it here and not at some wild party.”

“This party is quite loud,” Cas speaks up, raising his eyes from his half-finished drink. “Don’t you think?”

Dean bursts out laughing. Claire claps Cas on the shoulder.

“I said ‘wild’, but okay,” she chuckles. 

“He’s right, though.” Alex looks around the loft. “Good thing most of the neighbours are here, otherwise I bet you’d have some complaints.”

“I like this party,” Cas mumbles, eyes glued to Dean.

Dean leans over and props his elbows on the counter. “You want another drink, Cas?”

Cas nods, but when Dean reaches out to take his glass, he shakes his head and drinks the rest of the drink through the colourful straw. Dean’s drunk enough to enjoy the view and not get too flustered at the sight of Cas’ cheeks hollowing out when he sucks.

Finally, Cas lifts his head and licks his lips. “More, please,” he slurs and pushes the empty glass towards Dean.

Dean barely has the time to catch it. He sends Cas a wink and straightens up, only then noticing the girls have disappeared from the kitchen area, leaving the bar stools and their glasses empty. Dean shrugs and gets to work, glancing at Cas every now and then. 

“This party,” Dean says, adding a little bit more tequila to the drink. “Your idea or Gabe’s?”

Cas props his head on his hand, draping himself over the counter. His eyes never leave Dean. “I… don’t remember.”

Dean chuckles. “Never seen you this drunk before.” He finishes Cas’ drink, slides it over to him, and then walks around the counter to sit on the nearest stool.

Cas takes a sip, smiles, and turns to face him. “You should be more drunk.”

Laughing, Dean reaches for the tequila and pours himself three shots. “That enough?”

Cas stares at his lips. “Yes.”

Dean exhales, drinks everything, swipes a hand over his mouth. 

Cas tilts his head. “One more?”

“I get the feeling you’re trying to get me drunk, Cas,” Dean jokes but eagerly downs another shot.

“I think I am,” Cas replies. “Is it working?”

Dean slumps heavily against the table, his lips tingly from the alcohol and the way Cas’ gaze keeps flicking down to stare at them. “I think so, yeah. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Cas says and returns to his drink. 

Dean keeps his eyes on him, his body pleasantly pliant and relaxed. Cas is sitting close enough that their knees keep bumping against each other. Dean can see the way Cas’ dark locks curl behind his left ear. It reminds him of that evening in the elevator, with Cas sitting right beside him, radiating heat and the smell of summer rain. They spent over an hour there, in the dark, just chatting, which made Dean both pleased and frustrated. When they finally made it out of there, Dean walked away hastily, weirdly annoyed with himself. He’s already had two dreams about pinning Cas against the elevator wall, about his hands in Cas’ damp hair and his knee between Cas’ thighs and his mouth on Cas’ neck. 

Cas is still looking at him when Dean shakes out of his reverie. Dean stares back, thoughts heavy with alcohol and the way Cas’ blue eyes burn under the low light in the kitchen. Dean’s fingers itch when he flexes his hand on the counter, yearning to reach out, to touch. Cas lets out a deep sigh and inches closer, eyes dropping to Dean’s lips again, his thigh sliding against Dean’s knee.

“Hey, Dean!” 

Dean startles and leaps off the stool, ready to deny everything. Suddenly, there are two women, one on each side of him, bursting with energy, joy, and drunkenness. Dean looks over at Cas who’s back to drinking his margarita and notices Sam standing behind the counter, sending annoyed looks at the women.

“Dean, did you know,” Jody crows into Dean’s ear, “that your brother has a girlfriend?”

Dean blinks, confused. “Ugh, who, Jess?”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Sam groans. “She’s just a friend.”

“For now.” Donna chirps. “I wanna meet her!”

“Wouldn’t we all,” Dean says with a chuckle.

“You don’t know her, either?” Jody asks. She walks around the table and drapes an arm around Sam’s broad shoulder. It looks quite ridiculous, considering their height difference, but Dean’s too drunk to make fun of it. “Sammy, how could you! Why don’t you introduce her to your family!”

“‘Cause she’s not my girlfriend yet!” Sam mutters and rolls his eyes.

“Ha! He said ‘yet’!” Donna squeaks happily.

Dean pours himself another shot and sits there for a while, enjoying the good-natured banter between the women and his younger brother. After some time he realises that Cas is gone and stands up to look for him, thinking of all the drinks and shots Cas has poured into himself.

The bathroom is occupied, but when he gets shouted at from behind the door by Charlie and Dorothy, he chuckles to himself and wanders around the loft, trying not to walk into anything or anyone. He goes out into the hallway and notices that a few people have transferred from Cas’ loft into the apartment on the opposite side of the building, belonging to Abaddon and her two roommates, Ruby and Meg. He finds Gadreel, Abner, and Aaron talking in the hallway, beer bottles in their hands. He nods to them and goes over to the second loft, peeking through the open door. He snorts when he sees Gabriel, Abaddon, Ruby, Jo, and Benny sitting in a circle on the floor.

“Spin the bottle? Seriously?”

“Dean-o! Come on, join us!” Gabriel beckons him over. “We’ve run out of new people to kiss.”

The rest of the group starts screaming at Gabe to _shut up, not true, Dean, don’t listen to him, we’re_ _not kissing_. Dean laughs, shakes his head.

“No, thanks. Any of you seen Cas?”

“What did you do to my brother!” Gabriel shouts and tries to stand up. He ends up sloshing the beer out of his bottle. 

“Nothing, calm down. He might have had too much to drink,” Dean says with a smirk.

“Your attempts at trying to get into his pants are pathetic, Winchester,” Ruby teases.

“Shut your face,” Dean shoots back, even though he can feel his face get hot. “It wasn’t all me.”

“You shut up, I saw you showing off your bartender skills,” Jo says, sniggering.

“What did you make him? Sex-me-on-the-beach-oh-please-Cas?” Benny guffaws.

“You’re all so… dumb,” Dean mutters and flicks them a finger.

“Classy,” Abaddon drawls. “I think I saw him with Masters.”

“Masters? Meg Masters? Your roommate Meg Masters?”

“Yes, dumbo.” Ruby rolls her eyes. “Now either join us or leave.”

Dean waves at them and goes back to Gabe’s loft. He spends another five minutes looking around and asking people and is about to give up and start drinking again when his eyes land on the open door to the balcony.

The making-out spot.

Dean steps onto the balcony with a vision in his mind of Meg’s arms wound around Cas’ neck, both of them too busy to notice him. He’s greeted with warm, summer night air and soft sounds of music coming from somewhere on his right. He turns and sees Cas and Meg sitting on the floor by the wall, a bowl of chips between them, both staring at the small screen of a cell phone and talking quietly.

He clears his throat and takes a step forward. 

They both look up at him at the same time; Meg looks smug and satisfied and Cas smiles when he recognises him.

“Dean,” Cas says. He doesn’t sound as drunk as before, though there still seems to be a slight tipsy lilt to his voice. 

“Uh, hi,” Dean mumbles. “I, uh, just wanted to make sure you haven’t drowned in your own puke.” He grimaces as soon as the words leave his mouth. What a lovely thing to say. 

“I’m okay, Dean.” Cas stands up slowly. Meg catches his arm and helps him when he wobbles and chuckles quietly. 

“You interrupted us,” Meg accuses, eyes partly mischievous, partly annoyed. Dean finds it hard to read her, so he turns to Cas.

“Sorry,” he says. 

“We were just watching videos,” Cas says with a blinding smile. “Do you want to see them, Dean? We watched one about hamsters and two about guinea pigs. They were very cute.”

Dean blinks. “Huh.”

Meg snorts and pries the phone out of Cas’ hands. “That’s enough sugar for tonight, Clarence. You’re more than sweet without cute videos.” She pats him on the shoulder and joins Dean standing by the door. 

“Thank you, Meg,” Cas says, still smiling happily. 

“See you round.” She looks at Dean sharply. “You too, Winchester.”

Dean’s still mostly confused when she disappears inside the apartment. Well, at least they weren’t kissing.

“Dean?” 

Dean shakes himself out of his thoughts and goes over to join Cas standing by the balcony railing. Cas offers him a bowl of chips, but Dean shakes his head and asks instead, “Who’s Clarence?”

“I don’t know,” Cas muses. “Meg likes to call me that. She says I remind her of an angel.”

Dean’s hands grips the railing. “You realise she’s flirting with you, right?” He attempts to make his voice sound light and joking, but he can hear his own irritation.

Cas hums and sways a bit, so that he ends with his shoulder pressed against Dean’s shoulder. He turns his head and looks Dean straight in the face.

“She knows I’m not interested,” he says.

Dean needs a long moment to understand his words. Cas is warm and relaxed right beside him and Dean is having a very hard time concentrating on anything except his closeness.

“Ah,” he mumbles. He thinks of Cas’ friend from the first floor, the one he keeps seeing him talking to. “Is it Hannah?”

Cas blinks, slowly, his eyelashes dark and hypnotising. Dean can’t stop staring at the way they softly rest against Cas’ cheekbones when he closes his eyes.

“What?” Cas asks, confused. “What about her?”

Dean’s gaze slides over Cas’ face: his deep eyes, straight nose, dark stubble. His pink lips, a bit chapped and dry. His lashes. He can’t help it. The night is dark, but there’s light coming from the window and it paints Cas’ features with spots of white and specks of shadow. He has never looked so attractive, never seemed quite so warm, so close, so inviting. 

“Dean, I’m gay,” Cas says before Dean is able to collect his thoughts and answer. 

“Oh.” Dean’s brain stops to a halt. “Really?”

Cas nods. His arm is still touching Dean’s and he’s looking at the bowl in his hands. “Meg knows that. Hannah does, too. I thought maybe you did, as well.”

“Heh, well.” Dean rubs the back of his neck. “I didn’t.”

Cas looks up with a small smile. “You do now.” 

Then, suddenly, Cas’ eyes close and he slides closer, his face tilted up, lips slightly parted. Dean’s breath sticks in his throat.

“You smell really nice, Dean,” Cas murmurs softly and inhales. He opens his eyes, looks up at Dean through his lashes.

Dean feels his heart in his ears. “W-what?” he stutters.

Cas moves back, just a little bit. His eyes are lazy, glazed over, still a bit tipsy. There’s a light pink tinting his cheeks. “I like your smell.”

Dean chuckles nervously. “Thanks. You smell like cheese.” When Cas’ brows furrow, Dean curses himself and points at the bowl in Cas’ hands. “‘Cause of the chips, you know.”

Bravo, Winchester. Way to ruin the moment.

For a second, Cas stays confused, but then he starts chuckling, his head low and his eyes crinkled at their corners. Dean huffs out a laugh, too. Maybe he’s lame, but at least he made Cas laugh. He reaches out to the bowl and pops a chip into his mouth. Cas laughs again and mutters something about cheese. 

Dean has never wanted to kiss him more.

He swallows the chip, licks his lips. There’s salt on them now and he imagines tasting the same salt in Cas’ mouth, licking inside it, chasing after the flavour with his tongue, hands on Cas’ hips, the smell of cheese and tequila in his hair. Cas keeps giggling to himself and Dean feels on the verge of something, so he decides to open his stupid mouth and blurt something, anything, just to keep himself from pressing his lips against Cas’ skin.

“Hey, do you wanna go out for drinks sometime?”

Oh, fuck.

He freezes, his heart stops. This is not what he wanted to say. Anything but this. 

Cas raises his head and stares at him, eyes wide, and Dean panics.

“I… I know this great place, I often go there with Sam and Charlie and Benny. You could take Gabe? Or Meg, or Hannah. Or some guy. Whoever you want. Or not? I mean, uh. Yeah. Like I said, they have awesome drinks. And burgers.”

During his speech, Cas looked down, stopped staring at him with those shocked eyes. Dean’s heart hasn’t exactly slowed down, but he quietly breathes out with relief. Wow, that was fucking close.

“Of course,” Cas says and smiles at him. Dean tries to guess if the smile is forced, but he can’t tell. Maybe Cas is still too drunk to see through him. Maybe they’ll be okay. “We should do it.”

“Great.” Dean inhales, exhales. Looks up to the sky. He needs to change the subject, _now_ , in case his brain starts forcing him to blurt out other things. “Hey, have you watched that movie we talked about? _Psycho_?”

When Cas smiles and starts talking about the film, Dean notices his arm is still touching Dean’s as if nothing awkward happened between them. 

They should be okay.


	4. Chapter 4

## episode four

_roof is falling let me love me falling I just know_

  


It happens, fortunately, in the middle of the day while almost every resident of the top floor is out of the building. Meg, chased from the shower by the ear-splitting crash, is the first one to call for help. Those of the tenants who happen to be in the building at that moment rush upstairs and find a bewildered, but otherwise unscathed Meg, wrapped in a towel, standing in the middle of the catastrophe. She actually appears to be speechless, probably for the first time in her life. Rowena immediately dashes over to take care of her and promptly offers her a place in her own apartment for the indefinite time that it will take to repair all the damage. Meg doesn’t even argue. Chuck gets yelled at by Jody for wandering around the ruin and endangering himself and Doug is seen to poke at the biggest hole in the roof with a huge piece of debris, but no one cares about him anyway.

At least that’s the version Dean hears from Charlie when he comes back from work and notices all the emergency cars parked in front of their building.

Oh, and then he sees that most of the roof is gone.

He joins the crowd gathered on the first floor and learns that the official cause of the collapse is some kind of a pipe malfunction, but almost everyone is sure that there’s more to it than that. The building is old and in some serious need of repair, but their landlord, Marv, has never seemed to be bothered by any of their complaints and rarely even visits them unless he wants something for himself. 

“Honestly, for his own fucking good, I hope he gets his fat ass here, _soon_ , because I’m not paying for that shit,” Abaddon growls, red hair fiery and eyes murderous. “ _And_ I’m suing him.”

No one disagrees with her, for once. Dean wants to go upstairs and check whether their own floor has been spared, but the guys from the emergency repair team are still running around and securing the area.

“Thank God no one got hurt,” Hannah says with amazement. 

“God had nothing to do with that, believe me,” Ruby scoffs.

“Well, it could have happened in the middle of the night, while we were all in our beds,” Naomi says, supporting her sister. 

In this moment, Gabriel and Castiel enter the building, both looking alarmed and surprised by the crowd that meets them.

“What in heaven’s name happened here?” Gabriel exclaims. “And why is half the building missing?”

“Well… I wouldn’t say half?” Charlie laughs nervously.

“There’s been an accident,” Naomi says.

“Well, I can see _that_!”

“Is anyone hurt?” Castiel asks, looking around with a frown.

“Marv will be, after I’m done with him,” Abaddon says grimly. 

“I’m afraid you’re homeless now,” Chuck chimes. 

Gabriel and Castiel exchange startled looks but don’t say anything.

“What are you gonna do, guys?” Charlie asks, wide-eyed. “I mean, this is gonna take, like, weeks to fix!”

“I already called someone.” Abaddon waves her hand. “Just waiting to go upstairs for my things and then I’m out of here.”

“Am I joining you?” Gabriel asks and grins.

“I don’t know, are you?”

“Hell yeah, I am! Ugh, I mean.” Gabe sends a look towards Cas, still standing stiffly by his side. “You gonna be okay, bro?”

Castiel blinks. “I don’t know.”

There’s a long beat of silence when everyone looks from Cas to each other. Rowena tightens her arm around Meg’s shoulders, Abaddon sighs exasperatedly and stares at her nails. Sam grunts quietly and stomps his feet.

“You can stay with us?” Dean says finally.

Everyone exhales and starts talking at the same time, agreeing to the idea. Dean looks at Sam for confirmation, but Sam smiles and nods at him. 

“Sure,” Sam says lightly. “Our couch is your couch, Cas.”

Dean gazes up at Cas, smiles, and shrugs noncommittally. Cas living in their apartment for a few weeks? No big deal. Dean’s totally on board with that. No problem. None.

So what if Dean’s going to see his ridiculous bedhead every morning. That’s fine.

Absolutely fine.

“Thank you,” Cas says.

“Well, what about me, then?” Ruby asks. “Sam? Can I stay with you?”

Sam looks completely taken aback with her straightforwardness but tries not to show it. Dean chuckles under his breath.

“Um, well, but… We just said Cas is taking the couch,” Sam stammers.

“I’m okay with a bed, then,” Ruby murmurs with a grin.

“I… I don’t…”

“Maybe Castiel can stay with us?” Hannah asks shyly and ignores the look her older sister gives her. “We don’t have a couch, but—”

Dean catches Sam’s panicked look and swallows. Well, then. 

“Um, Ruby? We kinda offered Cas a place first—” he tries.

Ruby makes a face at him. “Sam? Are you gonna throw me to the curb?”

“That’s not—”

“I swear I’m gonna keep my hands to myself, Sam, if you’re worried about this—”

“Maybe I should—” Cas starts.

Dean holds up a hand. “No, Cas, shut up.”

“But Dean—”

“Anyone?” Dean looks around, frowning. 

Rowena sniggers and hurries away with Meg in tow. Charlie mutters something about her girlfriend coming over, Naomi keeps looking daggers at Hannah and tries to drag her away. Dean looks at Chuck expectantly.

“Do you guys have a place for Ruby?” he asks.

“I… I’m sorry, but no.”

Ruby narrows her eyes at him. “Any particular reason? No couch? A girlfriend or a stuck-up older sister?” she asks. 

Chuck frowns, then shrugs. “Not really. Sorry.”

He appears to become even smaller under her glare but stands his ground and doesn’t let her win. 

Ruby rolls her eyes. “Whatever. I don’t like you either.”

“Okay.” Chuck giggles nervously. “Gotta go, bye!”

By the time he runs out of the building, almost everyone has left them standing in the hall, as well. Abaddon is talking on her phone and Charlie keeps staring at Dean with a weird glint in her eyes.

“So I guess I’m staying with you,” Ruby says and beams at Sam.

Sam sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “Ruby, I have a girlfriend.”

“And I said I’m gonna try to keep my hands to myself.”

Dean catches Castiel’s worried look and clears his throat. “Okay, stop it. Ruby, you’re on the couch. I have an old mattress in my room, so Cas can take it if he still wants to stay with us.”

“It’s all the same to me,” Cas says. “I just don’t want to go with Gabriel and Abaddon.”

Dean chuckles. “Yeah, that would be a wild experience.”

Cas just smiles at him. 

✱✱✱

The first night passes quickly and uneventfully. Cas has managed to retrieve some of his clothes and personal things from his apartment so when he emerges from the bathroom, it’sin a loose t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Dean tries not to spend too much time staring at the way Cas’ eyes match his blue shirt and runs towards the bathroom to take a cold shower before bed. When he comes back to his bedroom fifteen minutes later, Cas is dead to the world on a thin mattress placed in the middle of the floor.

They’re both working in the morning and Dean isn’t surprised to meet Cas in the kitchen when he wakes up. Sam is nowhere to be seen and Ruby is still sleeping on the couch in the living room, so they keep mostly quiet, passing coffee and sharing some toast. Cas seems half asleep and Dean can’t help but slide curious glances at his neighbour.

“How was the mattress?” he asks, slurping coffee and eyeing the monstrous bedhead Cas is still sporting. 

Cas actually winces. “It… it was okay,” he says.

Dean raises an eyebrow at him. “Really.”

“Um.” Cas munches on the toast for half a minute, avoiding Dean’s eyes. “Well. At least I had a roof over my head.”

“Come on, Cas, just tell me.” Dean rolls his eyes. “I know it’s a shitty mattress.”

Cas sighs into his cup. “Yes, Dean. It _is_ a shitty mattress. But I’m still grateful for your offer.”

Dean tries not to laugh too much, even though Cas swearing must be one of his favourite things in the world. “Shut up. If it’s that bad, we’ll think of something else. Like kicking Ruby out,” he adds conspiratorially. 

“I’m sure they’ll fix our roof soon. I should manage a few more sleepless nights,” Cas says nonchalantly.

Dean blinks a few times. “Sleepless? You were very much asleep last night.”

“Well, yes, at first.” Cas looks away again, licks his lips. Dean tries not to stare. “I woke up after the first need for sleep had been satisfied and couldn’t fall asleep anymore. I… I kept feeling the floor beneath me and… Just… A bit of cold…”

“Shit, Cas.” Dean runs a hand through his hair. “Should’ve woken me up, I’d have thought of something else.”

Cas levels him with a stare. “Like what? It was the middle of the night and Ruby was occupying the couch, there wasn’t—”

“Well, yeah, but now I feel like a shitty host,” Dean mutters. “Maybe someone else has a spare mattress or something? There’s gotta be something.”

Cas just shrugs, looking down at the remaining toast on his plate. Neither of them says anything for the next few minutes. Then, just when Dean’s hit with a crazy idea, Cas looks down at his watch and stands up.

“We could always—”

“I need to—”

Dean laughs nervously, looks up at Cas, and holds up a hand. “You first.”

“No.” Cas’ mouth quirks at the corner. “You were first.”

Dean chuckles and gets up from his stool, gathering their plates and taking them to the sink. “I insist, as the host. It’s my right.”

Cas snorts. “Sure. I was just saying goodbye. I need to get going to work.”

“Oh.” Dean doesn’t turn away from the sink, doesn’t want to risk looking at Cas now that the crazy idea is already implanted in his head. “Okay, then. Have a nice day.”

“What were you trying to say?”

“What? Oh, no. Nothing. I gotta go too—”

“Dean?” Suddenly, Cas appears right at his side, head tilted sideways, eyes curious. “ _We could always…_ what?”

Dean gazes at him, then lets his eyes slide down. Cas is wearing a nice navy button down and Dean can clearly see the muscles on his chest and upper arms. He has rolled up his sleeves and Dean can stare at his slender forearms and wrists and wide tanned hands. He swallows.

“We can share my bed,” he says plainly, because, obviously, there’s no other way to say it unless he wants to sound like a lovesick dumbass. “I mean. It’s big enough for two. And I don’t mind. And it’s real comfy.”

“Dean,” Cas says and Dean has to force his eyes to move back up to look at his face. Cas looks pleasantly surprised. “I wouldn’t want to cause you any discomfort,” he adds hesitantly.

Dean exhales quietly. “I just told you I wouldn’t mind. And it’s only a couple of nights, right? There’s no need for you to torture your back on that crappy mattress if there’s a big bed not a few feet away, right? I mean, only if you’re okay with that.”

Cas keeps looking at him, lips slightly parted and face thoughtful. Dean shuffles his feet, feeling like a teenager who just asked a crush to prom and is waiting anxiously for the answer.

Which he kind of is, but he would never admit it out loud.

“Very much so,” Cas says finally and smiles fondly at him. “I can’t believe you called yourself a shitty host and now you’re offering me your own bed.”

Dean barks out a laugh. “Well. I’m trying.” He flashes a bright smile and nods when Cas murmurs something about work and passes him on his way to the door. Dean spends a few more seconds staring out the window above the sink and is about to start washing the dishes when he hears a snort behind his back.

“Smooth, Winchester,” Ruby drawls when he spins on his heel to face the couch. She’s lying underneath a thin blanket with her dark hair wild and her dark eyes amused. “Can’t wait to see how your epic love story evolves.”

“Epic lo— What… Shut your mouth, Ruby,” he grumbles and stomps out of the kitchen.

✱✱✱

Dean is standing in front of the bed and thinking when Cas comes back to the bedroom in his pyjama. 

“Do you have a preference?” Dean asks, immediately dropping his thoughts about this whole thing being too insane or unhealthy. They’re friends, right? And neighbours. When shit like a collapsing roof happens, friends and neighbours help each other. Even if it involves sharing a bed. 

“Regarding?” Cas asks, busy shoving his clothes into the bag he’s brought from upstairs after the accident. 

“Uh. Sleeping arrangements.” When Cas gazes at him quizzically, Dean waves towards the bed. “Which side do you want to sleep on? By the wall or by the edge? Do you want a thicker pillow or a smaller one? And what about—”

“Dean.” Cas smiles at him and stalks closer to stand beside him. “This is your bed. You decide.”

“Just askin’.” Dean shrugs and sends a sheepish look Cas’ way. “If you have no preference, can I take the edge? And the smaller pillow?” 

Cas goes back to his bag and bends down to take something out. “Of course. And as for pillows, you can have both of them. I’ve brought my own, if you don’t mind.” 

Dean is a little sick of their good bedside manners, but if he’s not careful, he’s going to do something stupid and they haven’t even slept in one bed yet. So he just rolls with it. 

“Why would I mind,” he answers politely. “That’s great. Should we…?”

“Yes.” Cas places his pillow (it’s yellowy-white, with small grey patterns emblazoned all over it) on the side closer to the wall and climbs carefully onto the bed, his whole body soon disappearing beneath the comforter. Dean goes over to flick the light off and then he’s moving under his own comforter, feeling weird and jittery and a bit nauseated inside. He actually can’t remember the last time he slept with someone in the same bed, not to mention sleeping beside someone without having sex first. 

He’s still deep in thought when Cas mutters ‘goodnight’ and rolls over to face the wall. Dean risks one look at the back of his dark head, then looks away quickly and curls into his other side. There’s at least one foot of space between them and he should feel absolutely safe. There’s nothing wrong in doing this. It’s what everyone would do in his place. Sam has said so, right? Even though he first gave Dean a weirdly amused look and chuckled to himself for half a minute. Sam didn’t object. No one would object. And Cas agreed to it. And they’re friends and that’s what friends do, right? _Right?_

He falls asleep but even in his dreams, he’s deeply aware of the warm body sleeping right beside him.

✱✱✱

On the fifth evening after the collapse, Sam gathers a few of his friends to celebrate passing an exam. It wouldn’t have been their apartment, though, if some of their neighbours weren’t invited, as well.

“So I’ve heard about what happened here,” Jessica says. Sam’s arm is casually draped over her slender shoulders and if Dean had any doubts about Sam finally admitting to being her official boyfriend (he was half convinced Sam had said that only to throw Ruby off), he’s sure now. Sam and Jess look good together in a way that seems to make everyone around them jealous and happy at the same time.

“Yeah, man, that was crazy, wasn’t it?” Kevin asks and throws back the rest of his wine. “I mean, I know everyone keeps saying that, but it’s good no one got hurt.”

“Right.” Jess nods. “You were lucky, I guess.”

“Tell that to Abaddon,” Dean says with a grin. “Her room suffered the most of the crash, I think, and she’s livid about her stuff getting broken.”

“And she’s sueing Marv’s ass,” Jo sniggers. 

“About time! I could actually help her,” Jess says and looks up at Sam. “What about you? You live here, too. Let’s do something about your situation!”

Dean can see Jess get more and more excited and it’s an easy road to make his brother involved in this, too. But the minute they start discussing legal stuff, Dean’s done. He would yell at Sam for making everyone bored, but he can see their guests start talking about different ways of making Marv’s life miserable, legally of course, so he keeps his mouth shut. He feels relaxed and a bit sleepy and he blames the wine Charlie has brought. It turned out to be surprisingly tasty, appealing even to Dean’s manly, beer-and-whisky-liking palate.

Dean stretches on the couch and his gaze slides over to Cas sitting in the armchair on the other side of the coffee table. He’s busy talking with Ruby, of all people. Dean spends a few long minutes just looking at him: at the way he’s slouching a little bit (an obvious indicator of the amount of wine he’s poured into himself), at his bare feet (because, as Dean has discovered, Cas has an affinity for walking around barefoot when he’s at home), at his fingers wrapped around the stem of the wine glass, at the pink tint in his cheeks. Dean gets lost watching Cas’ lips move along with his words and he only snaps out of it when everyone breaks out into loud laughter as a reaction to something Jess has said.

Dean realises his bladder is full and excuses himself out of the living room. His body feels mellow and warm and pliant and he would never admit it when sober, but he likes wine for exactly the effect it always has on his body. Everything around him seems nice and quiet and agreeable. Nothing gets on his nerves. He doesn’t stumble around the flat, he doesn’t miss the toilet, he never starts stuttering.

It’s so pleasant.

It gets even more pleasant when he comes back to his bedroom and spots Cas sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes glued to his phone.

“Hi there,” Dean murmurs and sits down beside him. The bed dips a little and Cas’ shoulder hits Dean’s. “Who’re you textin’?”

Cas looks up from the small screen. “My brother. He’s left me three messages since this afternoon.”

“Oh, really?” Dean chuckles under his breath. “Thought he’d be busy with his girlfriend. What’s he saying?”

Dean can’t be sure because the light in the room is dimmed, but he thinks he can see Cas’ flush deepen. He leans in, anyway, just because he can still feel that pleasant buzz drumming in his body.

“Nothing,” Cas mutters, turns off his phone, and puts it on the bed between them before Dean can look over his shoulder. “He was just asking how I was.”

“Right.” Dean lets his eyes stay on Cas’ face for a little longer than usual, doesn’t break eye contact even when Cas stares back at him. “And how are you?”

“Sleepy,” Cas says and a small smile appears on his lips. Dean’s eyes involuntarily flicker down to catch the movement. “The guests are gone and Sam’s gone to his room with Jess. I think we should go to bed, too.”

Dean can actually feel his heart skip a beat at the casual words. 

“Yeah?” he croaks, then clears his throat. “Well, I’m ready if you are.”

Cas smiles wider. “I just need to change and brush my teeth. They probably smell of wine.”

If it were anyone else, Dean would probably cringe at least a little bit. With Cas, he huffs out a laugh and feels his body lean closer, so that his nose almost touches Cas’ cheek. He closes his eyes and takes a whiff. 

“Don’t smell anythin’,” he murmurs against Cas’ skin.

“That’s because you smell of wine, too,” Cas laughs quietly into his ear. Dean feels Cas’ fingertips touch the skin on his naked forearm and then Cas is moving away and standing. The movement makes Dean dizzy even though he’s not the one that is moving. “I’ll be right back,” Cas says and exits the room.

For a while, Dean sits on the bed with a stupid grin on his face, body alight with Cas’ presence. He thinks about how it doesn’t even surprise him how close they’ve gotten since Cas unofficially moved in. It’s been five days, most of which they spent apart, working, but they still managed to touch more than ever before. Dean’s skin crawls with delight at the thought of Cas’ hands on his back, shoulders, arms, knees. They sleep in the same bed and never touch, but they spend evenings and mornings together, eating breakfast, watching TV, or simply lazing around and chatting, and they can’t seem to stop _touching_.

Cas’ phone lights up and Dean looks down before he can think. 

**Gabriel**

so you ARE sleeping 2gether!!!!!

Admittedly, it could be about anything or anyone. Gabe and Cas may be discussing Cas’ secret sexual partner or _anything_ , really. Dean shakes his wine-heavy head, trying to convince himself, but it doesn’t help. He _knows_ they must be discussing Dean and Cas’ sleeping arrangement and, obviously, he wants to know more. What did Cas write before?

He really, really wants to know. The phone has already gone dark again and Dean’s fingers brush against the smooth surface of the screen. The phone isn’t password protected, Dean knows that. But he can’t go through his messages, right? That would be super fucked-up, even for Dean. They’re friend, yes, but they’re not such good friends yet. 

To stifle his curiosity, Dean grabs the phone, stand up, and puts it on the table by the bed. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t care. So what if Cas told Gabe about it? They’re brothers, maybe they tell each other everything. Dean tries not to think about Gabriel spreading the news (fake news, obviously, because Dean and Cas _are not_ sleeping together, they’re just sharing a bed, very platonically, for God’s sake!) and busies himself with changing into his pyjama and sliding into bed.

He’s managed to come up with at least three different scenarios about how that conversation could have gone (“Yes, we’re sleeping in the same bed, but it doesn’t mean anything to me”, “Gabriel, please help me, that creeper Dean Winchester forced me to sleep with him and I was too polite to refuse WHAT DO I DO NOW”, “share the news, bro, tonight's the night! IMMA TAP THAT ASS” — okay, so maybe that last one doesn’t even remotely sound like Cas, but a guy can dream, right?). Then, the door opens and Cas walks in, breaking through Dean’s thoughts.

He smiles at Dean, unassuming, and Dean winks back because he’s still kind of tipsy from the wine. Cas rummages around the room for a little longer and Dean lets his eyes slide closed, lulled by the warmth of the bed and the sounds of having someone in his bedroom. Then, the lights go off and Cas gets into bed.

Or, well, he _tries_ to.

“Oof,” Dean says when a heavy body lands on him and a knee hits him hard in the thigh. “What—”

“Sorry,” Cas gasps.

Dean opens his eyes and there he is: Cas is on all fours right above Dean, legs almost straddling Dean’s hips and arms braced above his head. Dean’s whole body jerks up at the sight and their foreheads barely avoid a painful collision. Cas’ hands and forearms and elbows land on Dean’s chest, taking his breath away with the force of it.

“ _What…?_ ” is all Dean manages to splutter.

It’s dark in the room and he can’t see Cas’ face — not yet, at least, because his eyes still haven’t gotten used to the lack of light. Instead, he feels Castiel’s body warmth and his minty breath against his neck.

“I’m so sorry,” Cas huffs and then giggles. “I stumbled.”

Dean’s brain can’t seem to start functioning again. Well, his upper brain, at least.

“O-okay,” he stutters. “No problem.”

Cas finally slides off him. Dean groans when he feels the drag of Cas’ knee against his crotch but tries to cover it with a cough.

Instead of moving away, Cas stays on his side of the bed, body still touching a lot of places on Dean’s body. Dean turns his head, slowly, and stares at Cas with wide eyes.

“Do I still smell like wine?” Cas whispers. Dean can see his face more clearly now, he can see the way Cas is lying just inches away and how his eyes sparkle in the dark with something mischievous and eager. Dean notices Cas’ fingers on the hem of his t-shirt’ sleeve, just barely brushing the skin of his arm, and he swallows.

He should back away. Turn his back to him and stop it now that he still can. He should forget about Cas’ smell, Cas’ body right next to him, Cas’ bright eyes. He should— 

_Why, though?_

That’s when it hits him: two can play at this game. Why is Cas the only one who can do such things to Dean, why is it Dean that should back down and control himself?

Dean takes a breath. Then he rolls on his side and casually grazes the top of his nose along Cas’ jawline, inhaling.

“Nah,” he hums and feels Cas tremble against him. “You smell like my toothpaste.”

He backs away and looks at Cas with a smirk. 

“Oh,” Cas breathes out through parted lips. His eyes are half-hooded now. 

Dean can almost feel something big shifting between them. They’ve just crossed an important line, just like they crossed the unspoken border on the bed — there’s no going back to being just neighbours now. There’s probably no going back to being simple friends now. Friends do not look at each other the way Cas is looking at him right now. Friends do not get goosebumps from being so close to each other the way Dean is now.

“Dean,” Cas says, breathless.

The phone on the nightstand chirps loudly.

The moment’s gone. Dean curses under his breath and rolls onto his back. He reaches for the phone and all but tosses it at Cas.

“Say hi to Gabe from me,” he murmurs, turns away, and buries his face in the pillow.

Cas doesn’t answer.

✱✱✱

When Dean wakes up next morning, it’s with Castiel’s face pressed against his back.

His breath might be sticking in his throat a little, but he lets himself indulge the way it feels to have Cas’ sleeping form so close to his body for a little while, and then slowly gets out of the bed and all but runs away from the bedroom.

It’s Cas’ day off, so they don’t meet in the kitchen — Cas has already proven that he’s able to sleep until well after noon when he doesn’t have to get up. Actually, Dean doesn’t see him until late in the evening, when Cas comes back home with a phone stuck to his ear. He waves at Dean from the hall and then disappears inside their shared bedroom. Dean stays up in front of the TV for a bit longer than his body seems able to because he’s not exactly sure what to expect and apparently he’s a real chickenshit. When he goes to bed a little after 2 a.m., Cas is already curled on his side of the bed and fast asleep.

They don’t really spend a lot of time together in the next few days, either, and even if they do find some time to hang out for longer than a few minutes, nothing happens between them. Dean actually starts to think he must have imagined everything and convinces himself Cas does not feel anything towards him.

The only thing that still gives him hope is the fact that they keep on waking up, touching. It’s either Cas’ face against Dean’s shoulder or back, or their backs and butts brushing, or their legs tangled in a way that moves them closer together than ever before. One morning, Dean opens his eyes and sees Cas’ sleeping face just a few inches ahead and feels Cas’ heated breath against his cheek. He admires the view for about five minutes, but then scrambles out of the bed and out of the bedroom as soon as Castiel so much as breathes out a bit louder.

They don’t mention it, though, and as Cas moves back to his apartment, everything goes back to how it was before the collapse.

And then the third Milton brother appears and it’s time for Dean’s world to shake and crumble to the ground.


	5. Chapter 5

## episode five

_maybe we're helping each other escape_

  


Dean is about to play the next episode of _How To Get Away With Murder_ — another recommendation from Charlie, and Dean’s already hooked — when he hears a knock on the door.

He frowns and glances at his watch. It’s almost quarter past two in the morning and the whole building has been quiet for some time now, everyone either asleep or indulging in unhealthy addictions just like Dean. For a moment, he considers ignoring the sound, but then someone knocks again, more insistently now.

Wary, Dean gets up from the couch and stalks to the door. He looks through the peephole and is utterly surprised by the image of Cas staring defiantly straight ahead of him. Dean blinks and hesitates, but then something strange catches his eye and he quickly opens the door.

Cas’ tie, usually wrapped around his neck, is now hanging loosely, free of knots and almost sliding off one of Cas’ shoulders.

“What are you doing here?” Dean asks, taking in Cas’ more-than-usually dishevelled state. 

Cas looks up at him and sways. “Dean.”

“Oh my God,” Dean says and almost bursts out laughing. “Are you drunk?”

Cas smiles crookedly. “Dunno. Yeah?” He tries taking one step towards Dean and his shoulder collides with the doorframe. “Ouch!”

“Shit, careful,” Dean says, reaches out, and catches Cas’ arm. “What’s going on? You alright?”

Cas stares at him and scrunches up his nose. “‘M’not. No. Nuh-uh.” His eyes are blurry and his cheeks are flushed and he smells like a liquor store. 

Dean grips his other arm and slowly walks him inside the apartment. 

“Tell me,” he murmurs and pushes him down onto the couch. 

“S’nothin’, Dean,” Cas slurs. He keeps his head up and tries to look Dean in the face, but his eyes are barely open. “S’nice to see you, Dean.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s nice to see you, too,” Dean says and sits down next to Cas. “Who did this to you?”

Cas barks out a laugh. “Vodka.” 

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I can smell it. I mean, who got you this drunk?” 

Cas doesn’t answer; instead, he focuses his gaze on the TV screen. Then he slowly blinks at Dean and asks, “Are we watchin’ a movie?”

“Yeah, sure. Okay. You want something to drink?” Dean figures he won’t really get anything out of Cas now, so he might as well try to take care of him. 

“More alcohol?” Cas says and beams at him.

Dean facepalms. “Dork. No more alcohol for you tonight, okay?”

“Okay, Dean.” Cas keeps on smiling.

“Do you wanna go home? I can walk you—”

Cas’ eyes go comically wide. “No! Nuh-uh. Nooooo. Not going.”

“What?” Dean frowns. “Why?”

Cas rubs a hand over his face and mumbles something intelligible. Dean catches his wrist and moves his hand away.

“Say again?”

“Balthazar,” Cas says miserably. “And-and… _Him_.”

“Who’s _him_? And who’s Balthazar?”

“My brother.” Cas looks at Dean as if he’s stupid. “M’not goin’ there. Don’t make me go there, Dean. Please.”

“Ugh. Okay. I’m not, okay?” Dean looks around, sighs, looks back at Cas’ miserable face. “You wanna stay here?”

Cas smiles, bright eyes staring into Dean. 

Dean sighs again. “Okay, then. I’m gonna bring you a pillow and some blankets, then, and you stay here—” Dean pauses when Cas stands up along with him. “No, Cas, here, on the couch…”

“M’goin’ with you,” Cas says with a shy smile. “Please?”

Dean shakes his head and tries to back away, but Cas keeps following him. After a few steps, he reaches out and grips Dean’s arm. 

“You wanna stay with me,” Dean deadpans.

“Yeah,” Cas murmurs, his voice low and raspy. He keeps his eyes on Dean the whole time and Dean can feel his hesitance waver. When Dean reaches his bedroom and opens the door, still carefully watching Cas, the man passes him with an easy smile on his lips, catches his hand, and tugs.

“Cas,” Dean says. His stomach twists at the sight of Cas, shirt open at his throat, hair sticking up messily, sparkling eyes focused only on Dean. 

He swallows, gives up, and lets himself be dragged to bed.

Cas positions himself on his side, facing Dean, and he wraps his fingers around Dean’s bicep and tugs him closer. Dean feels Cas’ shoes knock against his shins, his alcohol-tinted breath wash over his face. Cas’ hand slides off Dean’s arm and lands on his hip.

“Cas,” Dean murmurs hesitantly. “We should talk. What’s going on?”

Cas’ eyes slide closed, his dark eyelashes brushing against his cheeks. His breath evens out, slowly.

“Hey.” Dean nudges his arm and watches as Cas opens his eyes again. “Talk to me.”

“S’him,” Cas murmurs softly. “I don’t… don’t like him. Don’t wanna see him.”

“ _Him_ who?” Dean asks. “You brother?”

Cas shakes his head, eyelids drooping. “My… my boyfriend,” he mutters so quietly that at first Dean’s not sure whether he heard him correctly.

And then he straightens up in bed, feeling as if someone just kicked him in the head.

“ _What_?” he barks out. Without thinking, he backs away, pushing Cas’ hand off his hip. He’s about to get up, too, when Cas opens his eyes again. 

“Former,” he says, more clearly now. “Former boyfriend.”

Dean blinks, heart hammering in his ears. He lets out a breath. “Geez, okay. Oh, God.” He lets himself show relief because he knows Cas won’t remember anything tomorrow. Not judging by his current state. “Warn a guy first, okay?”

Cas stares at him with soft eyes, and then touches Dean’s hip again as soon as Dean shifts closer to him. Dean can’t help but smile.

“We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” he asks. “Go to sleep now.”

“‘Kay,” Cas slurs. He slides closer and buries his face in Dean’s shoulder, arm sneaking around Dean’s middle before he has time to react. 

There’s a ringing in Dean’s ears and that’s why he’s barely able to hear Cas mumble a ‘goodnight’ to him. For a few minutes, he just lies like that, with Cas already snoring softly into his chest, and then, finally, he wraps an arm around Cas’ shoulders, tugs him closer, and goes to sleep.

✱✱✱

Dean wakes up with a warm body pressed against his back and an arm slung over his middle and for a long moment, he doesn’t find anything unusual about it.

Then he remembers that Castiel doesn’t live with them anymore, no matter how much Dean misses it, and remembers that the only reason they’re in bed together again is because Cas had gotten crazy drunk yesterday and insisted on staying the night because his ex-boyfriend is, apparently, back in town.

Dean sighs and gets up slowly, trying not to disturb the still sleeping Cas. He sits on the edge of the bed and runs a hand over his face. He wishes he could read Cas’ thoughts — he’d give everything to know what’s running through that messy head of his. It’s been so long and Dean feels he’s teetering on the edge of something, and sleeping in the same bed as Cas definitely isn’t helping his massive crush on the guy. Out of nowhere, he remembers asking Cas out for drinks and then backing out of it cowardly. What would happen if he didn’t mention their brothers then? What would happen if he asked Cas now?

He looks over his shoulder and freezes.

Cas isn’t asleep anymore and he’s looking up at him.

“Uh,” Dean says cleverly. “Hi. Sorry if I woke you up.”

“You didn’t,” Cas says and heaves himself up on his arms with a throaty groan. Dean looks away. “Oh. I feel awful.”

Dean chuckles. “No, really? Mouth like sandpaper? Head pounding? That taste like you’ve just puked your lungs out?”

Cas glowers at him and Dean tries not to find it hot. “You seem like you know what you’re talking about,” Cas says.

“Yeah, we’ve all been there. You want some water?”

Cas shifts on the bed, noticing for the first time the clothes he’s been sleeping in, including his shoes. He shoots Dean a questioning glance but Dean just shrugs.

“No, I… I don’t want to cause you any more trouble,” Cas rasps out and slides out of the comforter. He wavers a bit and Dean catches his shoulder before he can land with his face in the mattress. 

“Careful,” Dean murmurs.

Cas looks up slowly, his gaze all but stroking Dean’s face, his eyes red-rimmed and tired, but still strikingly blue. Dean blinks, aware of their sudden proximity.

“I didn’t do anything… stupid, did I?” Cas asks in a whisper.

His gaze drops to Dean’s lips for a split of second. Dean’s throat goes dry.

“What do you—”

“Dean?” comes Sam’s voice from behind the door. “You awake?”

Dean jerks away and stands up, heart skidding to a halt at the sound of his brother’s loud voice.

“What’d you want, Sam?” he calls out.

“Um, so this is really weird, but Gabe’s here and he says that, apparently, Cas is miss— Oh.” Before Dean can react, Sam’s head pokes inside the bedroom and his eyes land on Cas’ crumpled form on the bed. “Oh,” Sam says again, with more meaning now.

“Stop ‘oh-ing’, Sam,” Dean snaps. “Who told you to come in?”

“I didn’t think you’d have—” Sam makes a move as if he wants to close the door, but then he sticks his head inside again and gapes at Cas. “So you’re not missing.”

“It’s not what you think,” Dean bites out. He can feel his entire face heating up and he doesn’t like it one bit. “He just needed… We didn’t… Just get out!”

Sam sniggers and disappears before Dean can throw something heavy at his head.

“Well, that went well,” he says, frustrated. When he turns to look at Cas, he’s already out of bed, trying to straighten up his shirt. His tie is nowhere to be seen but he doesn’t seem too concerned about it.

“I should go talk to my brother before he makes a mess,” Cas murmurs and all but flees out of Dean’s room.

“Well, _that_ went well, too,” Dean grouches to himself and, against his better judgement, goes out, as well.

Sam is standing in the middle of the hall and grinning stupidly, but Dean passes him without a word and goes to join Cas by the door.

“—could at least call, you know?” he hears Gabriel say.

“I’m sorry, my mind was a little preoccupied,” Cas retorts, dry.

That’s when Gabriel notices Dean.

“I bet,” he says, eyes glinting. 

Cas looks over his shoulder at Dean and grimaces. “That’s not what I’m talking about,” he says, irritated, and Dean would feel offended if he wasn’t trying to save the situation, too.

“I’m not sure what’s the deal with that other brother of yours, dude,” Dean butts in and looks straight at Gabriel, “but yesterday I found Cas smashed out of his mind. He didn’t even want to go back home.”

“And of course that’s when you decided to play a prince on a white horse and took my little bro in?” Gabriel jibes. “How generous of you.”

“I told you, he didn’t want—” 

Dean stops when he sees the look on Cas’ face. He’s staring at something on the other side of the hallway, eyes stormy, unwelcoming, and a little worried. Dean looks up and notices two men walking down the stairs and turning in their direction. They’re both tall, blonde, and smirking.

“Well, if it isn’t my darling little brother!” one of them, the scrawnier of the two, calls out as they move closer. He raises his hands, pushes past Gabriel, and throws his arms around Cas. “Good morning, Cassie! It’s been forever!”

“Balthazar,” Cas says, voice flat. 

“We’ve been worried sick,” the guy says, stepping back. He keeps his hands on Cas’ shoulders even though Cas is visibly trying to shake him off. “I thought you’d welcome me as I arrived, but you weren’t even home yesterday.” Balthazar tuts, shakes his head, eyes Castiel from head to toe. “My God, you look quite awful.”

Dean sees the barely visible hurt in Cas’ eyes and he chimes in. 

“He was so happy to hear that you’re coming back that apparently he decided to drink a liquor store,” Dean snorts.

Balthazar looks at him for the first time since he appeared on his doorstep. He raises a brow.

“And who are you?”

“Good friend,” Dean says casually. “One half of your foot is actually inside my apartment.”

Balthazar lifts his eyebrow even higher and looks like he’s about to say something, but that’s when the other guy finally comes closer. 

“Castiel,” he says with a wide smile. He’s taller than all of them, even Dean, and he’s got a sharp jaw and steely blue eyes. Dean can’t help but notice the way Cas tenses when the guy approaches.

“Hello, Bartholomew,” Cas says, cold seeping into his voice.

He must notice Cas’ behaviour because he doesn’t move to hug him like Balthazar did. Instead, he slides his gaze all over Cas’ body and smiles even wider.

“I must say, Castiel, it’s _so nice_ to see you after all these years,” he says, a predatory glint in his eye.

Cas doesn’t respond and Dean watches him step a little back into his own apartment.

“So, may I ask,” Balthazar says, looking around. “What are we doing here?” He stops his questioning gaze on Dean.

“Well,” Gabriel says. He’s watching Cas closely and Dean can tell he knows exactly how Castiel is feeling at the moment. “Actually, I was looking for Cas.”

“Here?” Bartholomew asks. He eyes Dean’s front door with a grimace as if they personally offended him. 

“Well, he…” Gabriel pauses and looks between Dean and Cas.

“He what?” Balthazar sends Cas a curious look. “Cassie, dear, did you stay here with your friend yesterday?” He doesn’t sound accusing or impolite, and Cas visibly relaxes. “I have to say, I was pretty bummed I didn’t get to meet you yesterday.”

Cas blinks, then looks down. “I just… needed to take care of something.” He lifts his head, slowly. “It’s good to see you, Balthazar.”

Balthazar smiles and Dean thinks, _This is good, it’s okay, Cas is okay_ , but then Bartholomew speaks up again.

“Well, if it isn’t a cute family scene. Can we go back upstairs now? It’d be even better without that guy we don’t know over there,” he snorts and points to Dean.

Dean bristles.

“Shut up, Bart,” Gabriel says with a dangerous tilt to his voice. Dean has never heard him speak like that to anyone before. “This is Dean, our neighbour. We all like him even though he sings out of tune in the shower.”

The joke is clearly used to relieve the tension between Bartholomew and Dean, but it falls flat when Bartholomew snorts again.

“I’d rather talk with Castiel alone,” he says.

“Who says I’m going to talk to you?” Cas grunts. 

“You know you want to, Castiel,” Bartholomew drawls. “That’s why I’m here.”

“No, you’re here because Balthazar invited you.” Cas shoots his brother an angry look, then stares back at his ex-boyfriend. “I didn’t. I’ve got nothing to talk to you about and I’d appreciate if you didn’t bother me while you’re here.”

“Now, Cassie—” Balthazar starts, concerned.

“No.” Cas shakes his head violently. “I know he’s your best friend, Balthazar, and I know you wish we got along… But we don’t, not anymore. Nothing’s going to happen between us. It’s too late for that now.”

Balthazar doesn’t answer, just shrugs and looks over his shoulder at Bartholomew. They all join him, waiting for his reaction.

Bartholomew’s face changes from furious to smooth and smug again. He sends Cas an exaggerated wink.

“We’ll see about that, darling,” he says.

Dean has no idea what happened between them — hell, a day ago he didn’t even know Cas had any ex-boyfriends — but he’s sure of one thing: he doesn’t like Bartholomew all that much. And, judging by the way he reacts to his obvious flirting, Cas is pretty done with him, too.

Still, it doesn’t really justify why he does what he does in the next second. He’ll probably blame it on the lack of sleep and the night spent with Cas snuggled against his back.

He steps out of his apartment, half shielding Cas with his body, and says, “I wouldn’t be so sure about it.”

They all gape at him. Bartholomew narrows his eyes. “Why, pray tell, _Dean_.”

“Well, that’s simple.” Dean shrugs, all casual despite the fact that alarm bells are going off in his head. “Cas is already taken. Sorry, pal.”

He can feel Cas’ body jerk right behind him, surprised. Gabriel’s head snaps up to stare at him, too, and Balthazar sends him another curious look. Dean can almost hear Sam’s reaction, who must be eavesdropping in the hall, his eyes bugging out and his jaw dropping.

“Yeah,” Dean says confidently, even though his fingers start trembling minutely. “We didn’t want to tell anyone just yet ‘cause, you know, it’s kinda new, but, well, it’s been going on for a while between us. But now that you’re here,” Dean looks daggers at Bartholomew, “I guess it’s better to make it official. So, you know. You can back off. Right now.”

“Castiel?” Bartholomew grimaces and steps closer to look at Cas still hidden behind Dean. “Is that true?”

Dean wants to close his eyes and never hear his answer. He’s still high on adrenaline from what he’s just done, but his knees are weak and his heart is hammering in his chest so loud he’s sure everyone in the building must hear it.

“Why do you think Dean would lie?” comes Cas’ reply and then he’s moving and standing beside Dean. “Yes, it’s true. I’m sorry, Gabriel, that we didn’t tell you. It… took us by surprise, too.” His voice is so certain, so smooth. He almost sounds happy. 

Even though Dean must have just probably pissed him off.

“I _bet_ ,” Gabriel says. Dean catches his eyes and looks away as soon as he sees the amusement in them. “Well, good for you. You’re lucky I like him, bro,” he adds and slaps a hand on Cas’ shoulder.

“It’s a shame you didn’t tell me,” Balthazar says. “I admit, I did hope that you could still work it out with Bartholomew.”

“I’m sorry,” Cas says, and Dean sends a grin Balthazar’s way.

Bartholomew recovers pretty quickly. Dean will give him that, at least.

“Ah,” he says and a wide smile spreads over his lips. “All the luck to the young couple, then. You two have to join us for drinks tonight! I want to get to know the man that stole my Castiel’s heart.”

Dean considers calling it all off right in this moment. Surely Cas will hate him after that. It’s probably not worth it. Dean is almost sure Bartholomew doesn’t believe them and what if they can’t do it? Cas would never forgive him after that humiliation.

“Of course,” Cas says smoothly before Dean can finish reconsidering everything. “But only if you promise not to mention our relationship ever again,” he says, staring right at Bartholomew. “It’s not something I want to talk about, especially not when Dean’s present.”

“Sure, whatever,” Bartholomew says and holds up his hands. “It’ll be like we barely knew each other, Castiel, I promise.”

“Good.” Cas looks at his brothers, first at Balthazar, then at Gabriel. “I’m sorry again for not answering your calls yesterday. Now, if you could excuse us. We were about to eat breakfast.”

The Milton brothers and Bartholomew all say their goodbyes and go away, throwing last looks at them. Dean is frozen to the spot, even though he’s smiling to pretend everything's okay. 

He doesn’t want to look at Cas and see his face because he’s afraid of what’s about to come.

“Let’s go,” Cas says quietly, turns on his heel, and goes back inside the apartment.

Fuck. What has he done?

Dean passes Sam, who is obviously still standing in the hallway, and follows Cas to the kitchen. He swallows and takes a deep breath.

“Cas—”

Cas turns to him. “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean stops and blinks a few times. “What?”

Cas sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “I’m sorry you got involved in this mess, Dean, I really am, but what you did… Thank you, really. I don’t think I would have been able to survive Bartholomew’s visit here if he still thought he had any chance with me.”

Dean clears his throat and walks over to him, slowly. “You… you’re actually not mad at me?”

“Mad?” Cas looks at him with wide eyes. “No, of course not. Are _you_ mad?”

“Why would I be mad? It’s not your fault your ex is an asshole. And I… I don’t mind pretending to be your, uh, to be with you just to piss him off.”

Cas looks down. “I don’t think he believed us, Dean,” he murmurs.

“Nope, he probably didn’t,” Dean says. “But it made him angry anyway, didn’t it?”

Dean watches as Cas licks his lips, unsure, then smiles sheepishly, still without looking back at him.

“Yes. It did.”

“Well, then.” Dean pretends to be more confident than he feels but he can’t show Cas he’s actually terrified of that whole situation. “Mission accomplished. You mentioned breakfast?”

Cas looks at him and offers, “I can make coffee.”

“Perfect.” Dean opens a cabinet, pulls out a pan, and keeps watching Cas out of the corner of his eye. “Do you know how long he’ll be staying here?” he asks, casually.

“I have no idea. It may be two days or two weeks. I… If you want to back out at any time, Dean, please just—”

“Hey.” Dean turns to look at him and smirks. “I got us into this mess. And I’m sorry.” He sees Cas wants to protests and he puts up a hand. “No, I am. I probably shouldn’t have done it, and I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable, but… Honestly, Cas? That guy is such a dick.”

“He is,” Cas agrees.

“Why did you even go out with him?”

“It’s a long story.” Cas winces and looks away. 

“Okay, never mind. He pissed me off and I kinda jumped the gun. But, as I said… I don’t mind. If it means getting the guy to fuck off and finally start treating you with a better attitude, I don’t mind pretending for a bit.”

Cas sends him a serious look. “You know everyone in the building will probably find out soon.”

“So? They’re already gossipping behind our backs. We’ll explain once Bart’s gone.” Dean opens the fridge, gets out the eggs, and looks at Cas, still standing motionless in the middle of the kitchen. “So, what about that coffee?”

Cas nods and grabs two cups from the cabinet. Dean turns towards the hall.

“Sammy! Stop eavesdropping and come in here, we’ve gotta talk! You want coffee?”

Sam comes in, looking sheepish and curious. Dean meets Cas’ eye and chuckles, most of the tension finally leaving his body. He places the pan on the stove and prepares the eggs.

“Cas?” he says and smirks to himself. When Cas glances at him from where he’s stirring coffee, Dean adds, “Be a good boyfriend and pass me the salt?”

Cas bursts out laughing and Dean doesn’t even care about weird looks Sam is sending them from his place by the table.

✱✱✱

Dean decides their cover has been simultaneously a good and a bad idea.

It’s good because every time Bartholomew throws out a comment that’s way too suggestive for an ex-boyfriend, Dean doesn’t have to remind himself to tense up and try to get him to back off because he basically does all of that intuitively. They don’t even have to engage in any physical activities — Dean’s too scared to fuck it all up and to make Cas mad at him for crossing some invisible border, anyway. Whenever Bartholomew vaguely refers to his former relationship with Cas or tries to flirt with him, Dean’s there to throw him off his game, all but growling at him and playing the over-protective boyfriend. For his part, Castiel doesn’t let himself lose patience and makes enough sarcastic comments to successfully suggest to Bartholomew that he is definitely _not interested_.

It’s bad because Dean can feel himself getting more and more swallowed up in it.

It feels so natural to throw an arm over the back of the leather couch he and Cas are sitting on at the bar this evening. He lets their knees touch every so often and doesn’t do anything to prevent it. He knows there are more things he could try to do to prove a point but he doesn’t do anything else because he knows it wouldn’t look natural if he did — neither he nor Cas are that type of people, and they wouldn’t behave like that even if they actually _were_ in a relationship. They don’t start dropping ‘honeys’ and ‘babes’ in their conversation, they don’t hold hands, they don’t touch any more than necessary. They both agreed before that excessive PDA was definitely not needed and Dean’s more than glad to stick to it.

Bartholomew, apparently, isn’t.

The bar isn’t far from their building so they all walk back on foot. Dean actually gets involved in a conversation with Balthazar about food and spaghetti recipes and soon enough Gabriel joins them with his usual amount of enthusiasm. Dean is in the middle of describing the best pasta he’s eaten in his life when he catches the sight of Cas storming right past them and rushing into the building they’re approaching.

Dean looks over his shoulder and notices Bartholomew, strolling casually, hands in his pockets and a smirk on his face.

“The fuck did you say to him, man?” Dean asks, stopping in his tracks.

The man shrugs. “The truth, obviously.”

“Which is?” Gabriel chimes in, brows pinched angrily.

“Why don’t you ask him,” Bartholomew says, leering at Dean. “You’re his _boyfriend_.”

“Dude.” Dean takes a step towards him. “You gotta stop with this creepy attitude, alright? It’s over, don’t you get it? So stop trying to make it happen again.”

Bartholomew actually laughs, short and loud and very amused. “It’s far from being over, you idiot. Just ask him.”

Dean glares at him for a long moment, a twisted feeling unfurling in his stomach. Did Cas lie to him? Are they still together and Dean only humiliated himself? Is this why nothing has happened between him and Cas yet?

He hears Balthazar say something to his friend but he ignores it, following Castiel into the building instead. He finds him waiting anxiously on Dean’s floor in front of Dean’s apartment.

“Hey, what’s up?” Dean asks, uncertain. He approaches slowly, watching Cas’ angry expression melt into something a little more agreeable. 

“Nothing,” Cas says and wrings his hands.

“Obviously,” Dean jokes, then opens his door and gestures inside. “Wanna come in?”

Cas sends him a grateful look and follows him inside. Dean offers him a beer and Cas agrees, distracted, and sits down on the couch.

“Okay.” Dean hands him the bottle and sits on the other side of the couch. “So, what’d he say to you that got you so riled up?”

“He’s just being an asshole,” Cas mutters and gulps down half of his beer in one go. 

Dean looks at him, amazed. “More than usually? You know, I’m your pretend boyfriend for a reason. Just say the word.”

Cas sighs. “He doesn’t care about you, Dean. It doesn’t matter what we do — he won’t care. I will never be off limits to him.”

“Well, that’s just bullshit,” Dean says.

“His words, not mine,” Cas grumbles. He looks down at his hands, swallows audibly. “The thing is, Dean, he… It’s partly my fault.”

Dean leans forward on his knees. “How can this be your fault?” he asks, incredulous. Then, before he can stop himself, he adds, “Unless you… You’re actually still together?”

Cas lifts his head to stare at him. “What?”

Dean rubs his forehead. “He, uh… He said something like that. That it’s not over yet. And I thought, maybe—”

“Maybe _what_?” Cas asks, harshly. “Maybe I lied to you and got you involved in this situation just for the fun of it?” Cas puts the empty beer bottle on the table with a loud thud. Dean would comment on his drinking speed if they weren’t having an important conversation. “No, Dean, it’s over. It’s been over for years, he just can’t accept that.”

“So how’s that your fault?”

It’s Cas’ turn to run a hand over his face. “I… I never properly broke up with him. I just moved out.”

Dean takes a moment to mull over the fact. Then he shrugs. 

“Moving out kinda equals breaking up, doesn’t it?” he says lightly.

Cas sighs. “Tell that to Bartholomew. He… You know, he was my first boyfriend,” Cas admits, quietly. “We’d been together for three years and, well, I… I was a bit different back then. You wouldn't like the old me,” he says with a wry smile.

Dean snorts. “I doubt that, but okay. Whatever you say.”

“I’m serious, Dean. We lived in New York and I was still working for my first big company. Financial management,” he says and winces. “I used to like it. I’d audit great, important companies. I’d feel powerful. Sometimes too powerful.” He looks away, biting his lips.

Dean waits for him to continue, not wanting to interrupt his flow.

“One time...” Cas still isn’t looking at him, his face pale and fingers impatient on the hem of his shirt. “I had a friend, a colleague. His name was Alfie and he was even younger than me. They told him to… to fake some books to get back at some company. He did it, of course, we always did it. But he got caught and they didn’t even move a finger to help him. They ruined his entire career before it could even start.” Cas looks up, worry visible in the lines of his face. “I’m not saying everything changed right then, because I was still too caught up in everything. I’m not trying to justify myself. But I think that’s when I started to think a bit more independently. Bartholomew, of course, didn’t like that I grew a conscience. I changed over time, noticed everything wasn’t as perfect as I thought it had been. He stayed the same. I tried talking to him, asking him to abandon everything and move someplace else, start anew, but he wouldn’t leave his job. He didn’t see anything wrong with it. So I left, came to live in San Fransisco, tried my hand as an accountant. But finances would still make me sick, and a year later, I left that, too. We were already living here, me and Gabriel, so, as you know, I took up being a barista.” Cas smiles to himself, then shakes his head and looks up at Dean again. “I spent some time trying to get over Bartholomew and it wasn’t easy. But I’m ready to move on, even though it seems he isn’t. He’s delusional and he’s sure I still feel something for him.”

Dean swallows. “And do you?”

Cas smiles ruefully. “I was in love with him, Dean. It’s not all that easy to forget about it.”

Dean sits motionless for a moment, trying to think of something to say. Then, suddenly, there’s a knock on his door. He stands up and is surprised when Cas stands up, too.

“I don’t love him anymore,” Cas says quietly, staring Dean right in the eyes. “I’m not leading him on. I wish he could see that.”

Dean exhales. “Okay, then.” He gestures at Cas to follow him to answer the door and, when Cas does, he smiles widely. “I can help with that, if you still want me to.”

Cas’ entire face smooths out when he smiles back. “Okay.”

✱✱✱

They decide to continue with their charade and spend the rest of the evening in Cas and Gabe’s apartment, watching a baseball game and drinking beer. Dean and Cas ignore every comment made by Bartholomew, they don’t even look at him any more than is strictly necessary. In order to keep up their cover, they sit close together on one end of the couch, Dean’s arm around Cas’ waist, their thighs and knees pressed together all the time. Dean decides to rev up his game after a particularly creepy comment from Bartholomew — he leans in and whispers a remark about the game right into Cas’ ear. Cas, on his part, doesn’t disappoint — he chuckles and brushes his hand over Dean’s jean-clad leg. Dean pretends it doesn’t affect him any more than it should and retaliates by tightening his grip on Cas and laughing quietly into his hair.

When it’s late and the game ends, they make a show of parting for the night. Dean “allows” Cas to stay here with his brothers while he goes upstairs to sleep alone tonight. Balthazar tries to convince them it doesn’t matter to them, but Dean mutters something about wanting to talk with his own brother anyway. Cas leads him towards the door while the other three men watch. Dean wants to say something but he can feel their eyes on them, so he stays quiet. He meets Cas’ eyes and smiles a bit awkwardly.

Then his heart almost jumps out of his chest when Cas leans in and plants a soft kiss on his cheek, muttering ‘goodnight’ and all but pushing him out of the apartment.

Dean spends a good minute just standing outside in the hallway, thoughts a bundle of exclamation points and memories of Cas’ warmth so close to him.

✱✱✱

Everything goes to hell on the night before Balthazar and Bartholomew plan to go back to New York which, apparently, also happens to be Castiel’s birthday.

When Dean comes back home from work, he’s immediately pulled inside by Sam and Charlie and pushed into the bathroom. A stack of clothes lands on his head and he screams at his brother and best friend through the door.

“You mean you don’t know?” Charlie asks as her head pokes into the bathroom.

“I don’t know _what_?” Dean grumbles. He looks down at the green henley and a pair of pale jeans and then throws them to the floor.

“Oh my God, Sam, he _doesn’t know_!” Charlie says.

Sam’s head appears in the gap between the door and the wall as well. “What kind of boyfriend are you, Dean?”

Dean narrows his eyes. “The fake kind and you both know it. What’s going on?”

“It’s Cas’ birthday, dumbass,” Charlie says as if it was the most obvious thing under the sun. “And we’re almost late.”

“Late? To what?” 

“To his birthday party!”

“He’s having a birthday party?”

“Well, he doesn’t know about it yet? But yeah, he is, so hurry up!”

The door slams closed again and Dean’s left with his fingers fumbling with the buttons of his plaid shirt. 

“Was that Gabe’s idea?” he calls out. “Cas is gonna kill him, you know that, right? He’s not the surprise birthday parties type.”

“And how would you know that?” Sam shouts back.

“‘Cause I’m his fake freakin’ boyfriend!”

They make it upstairs just in time for Kevin, who’s standing by the window, to yell ‘He’s here!’ and for everyone to start trying to find a hiding place. Dean struts straight to where Gabriel and Balthazar are talking in hushed voices.

“He’ll hate it,” he states. “He’ll never forgive you.”

Gabe grins at him. “Dean-o! You’re here. Now go hide in the cake, quick!”

Dean just blinks at him.

“Kidding,” Gabe snorts. “Ah, if you could just see your face. But honestly, go hide somewhere. Don’t be a buzzkill.”

“I’m not hiding anywhere,” Dean grumbles. “This is ridiculous. He’s gonna kill you.”

“Nope, because it wasn’t my idea,” Gabriel says with a grin. 

“It was mine,” Balthazar says. “And I’m leaving tomorrow so he’ll have to forgive me.”

Dean groans. “Seriously, guys, this is Cas we’re talking about! He doesn’t do surprise parties.”

“We just want him to have some fun.” Balthazar starts pushing Dean behind the couch, where Benny and Jo are already crouching. “Now be a good boyfriend and hide, for God’s sake!”

Dean grunts but joins his friends on the floor. He shoots them an apologetic look and then peeks from behind the couch.

“Hide, Dean!” Jo hisses. “He’s gonna be here in a second!”

“You too, Jo?” Dean rolls his eyes. He sinks down to the floor and looks around the room. “Shit, did they invite the whole building?”

“And then some,” Benny says and grins. “There’s supposed to be lots of booze.”

“I hope there is,” Dean mutters.

Then he’s being hushed by Gabe, who’s hiding behind the armchair. The room stays quiet for exactly ten seconds and then they hear the key turning in the lock.

It all happens so quickly and is swallowed up by the biggest flurry of confetti Dean has ever seen. Suddenly they’re all yelling ‘SURPRISE!’ and jumping out of their various places of hiding and Cas is there, standing in the hallway with his jaw slack and his eyes the size of planets.

Gabe initiates singing ‘Happy birthday’ and makes the worst imitation of Marilyn Monroe ever, wailing ‘deaaaaar Caaastieeeeel’ in a voice that practically has Dean’s ears bleeding. Then everyone starts hugging the birthday boy and pushing gifts into his surprised hands. Before Dean can protest, he’s being shoved into his direction, too. Cas stares at him with big, shocked, but quite happy eyes, so Dean gives up and hugs him willingly, chuckling and muttering “sorry” into his ear. He wants to say more but Sam pushes him aside and engulfs Cas in his own bear hug. 

Then Gabriel and Balthazar drag Cas properly into the living room and situate him on the couch. Dean tries to join him but someone pulls him into the kitchen and then he’s facing a big-ass birthday cake with a big-ass number of candles pushed into its frosting.

“Oh my God,” Dean gasps, overwhelmed. 

“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?” Donna twitters, all smiles and glitter on her silver dress. 

“Uhh.” Dean watches as Jody finishes lighting all the candles. “How many—”

“You don’t know how old your boyfriend is?” Claire, being the one that dragged him into the kitchen along with Alex, laughs at his stunned face. 

“Booo, Dean!” Donna giggles.

“It’s thirty. Now, shush,” Jody says. “Dean, you be careful with that thing, okay?”

“Be care— What?” They push the cake into his hands and he wobbles. “Oh my God. I’m gonna kill _all of you_ , you hear me? You’re not walking out of this alive.”

But he still remembers the quiet joy in Cas’ eyes, so he goes back into the living room and presents Cas with his birthday cake. He even starts singing him best wishes again, just to see Cas hide his flushed face in his hands and then throw his arms around his older brothers.

He’s still smiling stupidly to himself when the cake is being cut into pieces and when Sam joins him with his own ginormous slice. 

“You still think he won’t like it?” he asks, laughter in his voice.

Dean just chuckles and dives back into the cake.

He realises he doesn’t have anything for Cas only when Meg and Ruby start pestering Cas to open his presents. He does and he seems like he can’t stop smiling, even if some of the gifts make him blush harder than Dean has ever seen him blush. Admittedly, those are the gifts from the girls in the apartment on the opposite side of the building so no one is really surprised.

It’s only when Cas is sitting among the opened packages and the pieces of ribbon that Dean notices Bartholomew for the first time since the party started. He sneaks through the crowd and pushes himself into the seat just beside Cas.

“For you,” he says and presents Cas with a white envelope.

Cas shoots him a suspicious look and slowly opens the gift. Dean can feel his hands turning into fists when he watches Bartholomew’s hopeful look and the way he’s sitting way too close on the couch.

“Tickets,” Cas says quietly. Balthazar tries to look over his shoulder, but Cas is too occupied with the gift to show it to anyone. Instead, he says it out loud. “Tickets to New York?” 

He looks at Bartholomew who shrugs.

“I want you to come back with me,” he says. 

“To New York?” Cas asks again. 

“Yup. With me.”

Suddenly, Dean notices that the heads start turning towards him. He blinks and looks at Cas who moves to look at him, as well.

Ah. Right. He’s the boyfriend and he should probably do something.

“What?” he asks. He clears his throat, puts the plate with the cake down onto the table, and asks again, louder this time. “What does it mean?”

“What do you think?” Bartholomew stands up and sneaks a hand onto Cas’ shoulder, possessive and powerful. 

Dean takes a step forward, this time instinctively. Being a pretend boyfriend aside, now Bartholomew is trying to throw himself at Cas, _again_ , and Dean will not have it. 

“I’m pretty sure he told you, loud and clear, that he doesn’t want anything to do with you,” Dean says.

Bartholomew smirks. “That was before I offered him a position at the biggest accounting firm in New York.” He looks down at Cas and gestures with his hand. “Look inside the envelope again.”

Dean doesn’t care about the envelope. 

“Fuck this,” Dean says angrily. “Fuck you and your creepy ex-boyfriend shit. You don’t get to—”

“Oh, what, but you do?” Bartholomew mocks. “Please. You’re no one.”

Dean freezes and swallows.

“I’m sorry, did you two think you were fooling me with this obviously fake relationship you’ve got going on?” Bartholomew laughs. “Come on. You must think I’m stupid.”

Cas still isn’t saying anything. Dean looks at him, questioningly, but Cas has his eyes glued to the paper in his hands. 

“Bart,” Gabriel speaks up suddenly. Dean jerks. He’s forgotten there are more than twenty people in this room with them. “Why don’t you stop being a jerk for a moment and just ask Cas what he wants?”

“Cas?” Balthazar looks between Dean and Cas, bemused. “Why is Bart saying you’re not really with Dean? What’s going on?”

“Oh, of course he’s with Dean,” Jody says. “Everyone knows it.”

“Yeah,” says Charlie. “We all knew it even before they did!”

There are voices around confirming his fake relationship with Castiel and Dean can’t really believe what he’s hearing. Cas, though, doesn’t seem to be listening to it at all. Instead, he finally puts the envelope on the table in front of him and stands up.

“Bartholomew,” he says in a quiet voice and his hand goes up to rest on the other man’s arm. For a small terrifying moment, Dean is sure he’s going to say yes to whatever Bart is proposing, and his insides twist painfully. But then Cas lifts his head higher so that he’s able to look at his ex-boyfriend properly. “I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry for not telling you clearly that it was over. It’s been over for a very long time now and I… I just really want you to finally see it.”

Bartholomew keeps on smiling. “Come on, Castiel. Stop pretending, will you? You loved New York. You loved your job. I know you still do.”

“You’re right,” Cas says, “I did love it. And I did love you, but then it changed. I’m here now, I’ve got a job, a brother, a… a boyfriend—”

“Castiel,” Bartholomew snorts. “That Dean character is a joke. You can all confirm it all you want but I still won’t believe it.”

Cas turns and meets Dean’s eyes. Dean’s throat feels like a desert but he doesn’t know what to do.

“Just come back with me,” Bartholomew continues. “It’s your dream job, Castiel, and you know it. Leave that sorry excuse of a man and go with me.”

“Hey, now,” Jo protests. “Dean is a very fine specimen, thank you very much.”

“Yup,” Alex and Claire affirm and get cuffed on the head by Jody and Donna.

“Agreed,” Aaron speaks up from the far side of the room. Dean hasn’t even noticed him before but now he can’t help but smile when he sees Aaron grinning at him. “I’m actually super jealous of your boyfriend, Cas. Do you maybe wanna trade places with me?”

Cas doesn’t respond, instead grabbing the envelope and pushing it into Bartholomew’s hands. 

“I’m sorry,” he says.

Bartholomew narrows his eyes at him. “Are you breaking up with me, Castiel?”

Cas barks out a humourless laugh. “Technically, yes. I should have done it a long, long time ago. But now it’s officially over.”

Dean catches Cas’ eyes, again, and he can’t help but smile and put his thumb up. Cas smiles back, a bit shyly, but then Bartholomew is crunching the envelope, throwing it to the ground, and gripping Cas forcefully by the shoulders.

“I didn’t take you for this stupid—”

Dean is there in a matter of seconds and he swears that everyone in the room actually gasps out loud when his fist collides with Bartholomew’s perfect jawline. The man stumbles back onto the couch, hand coming up to cover the fast-blooming bruise.

“He told you it’s over,” Dean says, “so please, don’t touch him like that ever again.”

“And what will you do?” Bartholomew sputters. “Fake-beat me?”

Dean goes in for the next punch, but then Cas’ hands are on his arms, pulling him away gently. Balthazar appears beside the couch to help Bartholomew stand up and then walks him out of the apartment to the loud applause of the rest of the guests.

“What a nerve!” Charlie sighs. “I can’t believe you just punched him, Dean.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t punch him _earlier_ ,” Benny guffaws.

“Violence is not the answer, kids,” Jody pipes up.

“But still, if anyone threatened my girlfriend like he did…”

“Ugh, guys,” Dean says awkwardly. “About that…”

“Shut up, Dean,” Sam says, laughing.

“No, seriously, though, I think we—”

“I think we all know what you’re trying to say, kiddo,” Gabriel interrupts. “Well, both of you, actually,” he adds, sending Cas a meaningful look. 

“What?” Dean baulks.

Meg rolls her eyes. “We know you’re not together, dummy.”

“...Who told you?”

“Gabe,” Jo says cheerfully.

“Well, who told _him_?” Dean turns a murderous stare at Sam and Charlie.

“They didn’t need to tell me anything,” Gabriel says. “You really think I’m that stupid? Believe me, I’ll _know_ when you two finally get together. Everyone will.”

Dean’s mind is too stuck up on the word ‘when’ to answer. Cas doesn’t seem to have this problem, though, and he asks, “Then why did you all confirm our relationship in front of Bartholomew?”

“You’re not the only ones who can pretend,” Jo says, shrugging.

“You’re our friend, Cas,” Donna says. “We don’t like it when your rude ex-boyfriends harass you.”

“Oh,” Cas mutters and Dean catches himself staring at him again, noticing a rosy blush on his cheeks. “Thank you.”

“Dean is a much better choice,” Jody teases.

“Yeah!” Charlie cheers. “We love you guys together.”

“Uhm. What?” Dean tears his gaze away from Cas and looks around at his friends. “But you just said you know we’re not… a thing.”

Charlie actually giggles. “Well, that’s a bit more complicated. We know _you_ know you’re not really together, but we also know you _don’t know_ you’re actually together?”

Dean’s mind is completely blank. “What?”

“I think what she’s trying to say is,” Gabe says, all innocence and friendly smiles, “we ship you, guys.”

“Again, _what_? Cas, are you getting any of this?” Dean looks at Cas again and sees a trace of understanding on his face.

“I’m not… It’s…” He shakes his head, as if trying to get rid of unwanted thoughts. “It was a pretend relationship that was meant to discourage Bartholomew. It’s not real. It never was.”

Dean looks down and doesn’t say anything.

“Are you sure?” Aaron asks shyly. “‘Cause, honestly, we can see how you look at each other.”

Dean can feel his face heating up but he deliberately keeps his head bowed. He wants everyone to stop talking. To disappear. They’re hitting too close for comfort and he knows exactly what they’re talking about — he knows very well how _he himself_ looks at Cas. And he knows that, for him, it wasn’t always pretend. But it’s not fair to throw all of it at Cas, not now, just after all that happened with Bartholomew. So he just closes his eyes and wishes everyone gone.

“Just friggin’ kiss, guys!”

“It’ll be better for everyone, believe me.”

“Kiss him, Dean! It’s his birthday!”

Dean opens his eyes to glare at his so-called friends. “Are you five-year-olds? For fuck’s sake, shut up already. We told you it wasn’t real.” He notices the expressions on his friends’ faces: Sam’s curious, Charlie’s gentle, Gabe’s mischievous. He shakes his head.

“The UST is kinda exhausting, really,” Claire teases.

“Just do us all a favour?” Alex says with a laugh.

Dean feels Cas’ gaze on him and he turns, slowly, to meet his eyes. They seem bluer than ever, brilliantly focused only on him, a mixture of worry and hope written clearly in the handsome lines of his face. 

That’s when Dean realises, with a heart in his throat, that Cas might not have been pretending, either.

Dean swallows. “Not like that,” Dean murmurs quietly, just for Cas’ ears. “I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t wait to see the reaction on Cas’ face. Instead, without another word, he leaves the apartment.


	6. Chapter 6

## episode six

_been waiting and waiting for you to make a move  
before I make a move_

  


The elevator door slides open with a quiet rustle and Dean meets Castiel’s blue eyes.

He’s in a pleasant mood and he smiles, stepping inside. Cas smiles back, the corners of his lips turning upside and his eyes forming charming wrinkles on his tanned skin. Dean smells the subtle cologne as he stands close to Cas, but without actually touching him.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas murmurs, eyes following Dean’s movements.

“Hi, Cas,” Dean says back and lets his arm brush Cas’ shoulder in the lightest of touches.

This morning, Dean woke up with a vision of Cas draped over Dean’s pillow in Dean’s bed, his hair sleep-tousled and his skin sleep-warm. In his dream, Dean’s fingertips grazed Cas’ naked skin and his lips kissed Cas’ eyelashes.

He’s been having dreams and thoughts like that for quite some time now, but they strengthened after Cas’ unfortunate birthday party, which Dean had left earlier than intended when he was almost forced to kiss Cas in front of everyone. It’s been almost a week now and neither of them has mentioned it during their short encounters. Dean visited Cas a day after the party and presented him with a nicely packed collection of classic horror movies on Blu-Ray. Cas smiled and offered him a beer, which they drank on the balcony to the loud R’n’B music coming from Gabriel’s room.

Jody and Donna join them in the elevator on the second floor and every chance of talking to Cas in private disappears with the loud chattering of the women. They all wave at each other after the elevator stops and they all go out of the building, and then Dean is climbing into the Impala and Cas is climbing into Gabe’s silver Honda and Dean’s mood worsens just a little bit.

It’s improved again about eight hours later when he almost bumps into Cas on his way into the building. Cas is holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a book in the other.

“Hi,” Dean greets, his heart speeding up because he knows what will happen now. He knows what _has to_ happen now.

“Dean,” Cas says. Dean will never get bored of the way Cas smiles at him, as if his day revolved only around saying ‘hello’ to Dean. It makes Dean’s skin crawl with pleasure. “How was your day?”

“Fine.” They both stop in front of the elevator and stare at the red light for a moment. “Yours?”

“I bought a new book,” Cas says and beams at him, “which has considerably improved my afternoon.”

Dean should ask about the book but he’s too distracted by the way Cas keeps staring at his face. He shuffles his feet.

“Wanna take the stairs?” he asks.

“Yes,” Cas says immediately and follows Dean towards the staircase. 

Dean doesn’t want to project his own thoughts at Cas, but the man seems as eager to spend more time together as Dean feels. 

“You watched any of the movies yet?” Dean asks when they start climbing. Neither of them is in the lead, which means their arms and hands keep brushing every time they sway too close to each other. 

“No.” Cas sends him an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

“Hey, it’s nothing,” Dean says. He clears his throat. “Maybe we could watch one together or something.”

“That,” the back of Cas’ hand grazes Dean’s wrist, “would be really nice.”

“Yeah?” Dean should pay more attention to the steps under his feet but damn, Cas’ eyes are not leaving his eyes even for a moment and Dean feels breathless. “Awesome. I’ll bring beer.”

“We could order pizza? Or burgers.”

Dean bites his lip, the movement followed closely by Cas’ curious gaze. That’s it, that’s the perfect way to start the conversation he’s been itching to start for a week.

“Apropos of burgers.” He looks straight ahead for a few seconds, gathering his thoughts. “Remember that place I told you about some time ago? The place with burgers and cool drinks?”

They’ve almost reached Dean’s floor now.

“Yes, Dean, I do.”

“So… You still wanna go? I think there’s karaoke there Thursday night.” Dean raises a brow at him.

Cas looks down, huffs a laugh. “I don’t really sing. And don’t you think it’d be too loud?”

“Right. Yeah, sure. Okay.” Dean rubs a hand on the back of his neck and looks away. 

They step onto the third floor and stop.

“What about tomorrow?” Cas asks.

Dean looks at him. The hallway is dimmed and he can’t see very clearly, but it seems Cas is smiling at him.

“Sure!” Dean splutters, then clears his throat again. “I mean, yeah. Sounds good.”

“Is seven okay?” 

Dean stares at Cas, at his handsome face, his beautiful smile, gorgeous eyes, his hair that begs for a comb. He stares and can’t believe his luck.

“It’s fucking perfect,” he says because fuck, it finally feels like _something_. It’s not an emergency, it’s not pretend. 

He’s going on a date with Cas and it couldn’t be more real.

“Okay,” Cas says and smiles.

Dean wants to kiss him so bad.

“Okay,” he says instead.

“I can’t wait,” Cas says softly and turns to climb the rest of the stairs.

Dean lets him go. 

For now.

✱✱✱

Charlie and Jo are in their apartment when Dean emerges from his bedroom dressed in his nicest jeans and a navy button-down. He knows he’s in trouble as soon as their eyes land on him.

“Dean!” Jo crows, watching as he puts on his shoes and ties them in silence. “What’s with the clothes?”

“What do you mean?” he grunts but he hides his face so that she doesn’t see his stupid smile.

“Damn, dude,” Charlie says. “Who’s the lucky person?”

Sam snorts into his tea mug. “Been trying to get any information out of him since he came back home from work yesterday,” he says, amused. “No such luck.”

Jo and Charlie turn their suspicious glances at him.

“It’s just none of your business,” Dean shoots back.

“Hm.” Charlie tilts her head and that’s how Dean knows he’s doomed: _she knows_. “I saw Cas this morning. Cheerful as a lark. Practically starry-eyed.”

Dean can feel his heart flutter helplessly in his chest but he doesn’t say anything.

“Did he say why?” Jo asks sneakily.

“Nope. Nothing at all.”

“Hmmm, interesting.”

“We’re just going out for a drink or two,” Dean gives up finally. “It’s nothing.”

He might as well admit to getting married judging from the way both girls erupt with giggles and awed sighs. Dean meets Sam’s eyes over their heads.

“Good luck,” his brother say and Dean wants to hug him after hearing how normal he sounds. But then the bastard has to add, “Use protection!” and the moment’s gone.

Dean goes out of the apartment and stays motionless for a while, wondering what to do now. They didn’t exactly specify where to meet. Should he go upstairs and literally pick him up from his flat? Or maybe Cas will be waiting for him in the parking lot?

Fortunately, suddenly he hears the door open and close somewhere above his head and after half a minute, Cas appears on the staircase.

“Hiya.” Dean waves awkwardly and comes closer. 

Cas is wearing black pants and a pale blue shirt. His sleeves are rolled up and he looks as if he actually tried combing his hair. Dean is staring but he doesn’t mind it all that much because Cas is staring, too.

“Dean,” Cas murmurs, stopping right in front of him. He’s freshly shaved and the smell of his cologne is mouth-watering. “You look nice.”

Okay, it’s definitely a date, then. Cas’ gaze flicks down to Dean’s lips and then back to Dean’s eyes. Whatever doubts Dean has had about this evening, they disappear with the way Cas licks his lips and looks down, sheepishly.

“Thanks,” Dean croaks. “So do you. Shall we…?”

“Yes,” Cas says. “I’m very hungry.”

Dean laughs. “Did you have dinner?” 

“Of course not. I’m going to dinner with you.”

Dean’s chest is full of stupid, love-crazed butterflies. “It’s just burgers and drinks, Cas.”

“Burgers sound exactly like dinner to me, Dean. And I actually do intend to eat, just so you know.”

Dean laughs again and shakes his head. “A man after my own heart.” Then, because it seems like too much already, he gestures towards the stairs. “Let’s go, then.”

The drive to the bar is pleasant, the Impala’s windows rolled down to let in the nice summer breeze. Cas tells him about the book he bought yesterday, the one Dean forgot to ask about, and then they discuss the advantages and disadvantages of turning books into movies. Cas seems vibrant in the passenger seat and Dean can feel some of his energy leak into him. Their eyes wander, but their hands stay in place. Dean only allows his palm to touch Cas’ back when they’re finally entering the bar. It’s still early and it’s Wednesday, so there aren’t too many people inside. They choose a table by the wall and order two burgers and two beers while deep into the discussion about The Lord of the Rings screen adaptations.

“They omitted too many details from the books,” Cas says. “There was no mention of Tom Bombadil. Or nothing about the Barrow Downs.”

Dean makes a face. “I honestly don’t remember anything about that second thing. And Tom Bombadil was pretty boring.”

Cas gulps his beer and sends Dean a disappointed look. “Oh, but the gratuitous love affair between Aragorn and Arwen wasn’t?”

“Dude!” Dean gasps. “Dream-Arwen in her transparent dress. Do I need to say more?”

Cas barks out a laugh. “Do I need to remind you I’m gay, Dean?”

Dean chuckles and nudges Cas’ shin with his own foot under the table. “Nope. But still.”

“But still.” Cas moves his leg so that his knee ends up between Dean’s thighs and he smirks when Dean inhales violently. 

“You want another beer?” Dean asks, a bit breathless.

“Only if you do.”

“I’m driving,” Dean answers. He feels drunk already, but it’s not because of the alcohol.

Cas nods and empties out his bottle, eyes never leaving Dean’s face. 

“I have beer in my fridge,” he says plainly.

“Yeah? What do you propose, then?” 

“I know you promised me drinks,” Cas says, “but what do you say we get out of here now?”

Dean’s entire body shudders when Cas looks at him through his dark lashes, a shy smile on his pretty lips.

“Yeah,” he squawks, and then grunts. “I mean, yeah, let’s go.”

Their hands touch when they reach for the doorknob at the same time. Dean chuckles and lets Cas go first, skin covered with goosebumps. They keep exchanging glances on their way to the car and Dean honestly can’t remember what they actually did in the bar except for talking about Tolkien and eating their burgers in silence. What if Cas actually meant ending the date and going home because he didn’t have fun? What if Dean was too absorbed with his own stupid feelings to try to make Cas enjoy their time together?

They’re silent in the car and Dean can’t stop worrying and cursing himself in his head. _Great, Winchester. You had your chance and you wasted it. Thoroughly. Enjoy the evening while it lasts and get ready for awkward elevator rides when you happen to meet before work_.

But then suddenly they’re climbing the stairs and as Dean hesitates on the third floor, Cas puts his arm on Dean’s shoulder and guides him upstairs, towards the top floor. They both keep quiet when Cas unlocks the door to his flat and invites Dean inside. Dean kicks off his shoes and wants to follow Cas to the kitchen, but Cas shoves a beer into his hands and gestures towards the dark hallway.

Dean’s been to the apartment plenty of times, but apart from the living area, the balcony, and the bathroom, he’s never wandered anywhere near Cas’ bedroom. His breath seems to stick in his throat when he finally crosses the threshold, Cas close behind him.

The room is minimalistic, with a big king size bed taking up most of its centre, a red brick wall behind the bed frame, a stack of books on the small wooden cabinet, and a naked bulb swaying lazily above the mattress. The light in the room is dim and Dean can see the city lights through the thin net curtains.

“So,” Cas says and comes closer with a bottle opener. “Do you want to watch something?”

Dean looks down at Cas’ hands which are struggling with the bottle cap. “Not really.”

Cas raises his head and their eyes meet. “Okay.”

Dean moves closer and takes both the bottle and the opener from Cas’ hands. “Lemme,” he murmurs, head dipped.

He can feel Cas’ breath on his cheek. 

“I had fun tonight,” Cas says quietly and Dean chuckles.

“That’s good.” He hands Cas the opened bottle and looks Cas in the eyes. “I did, too.”

Cas turns away and Dean’s suddenly afraid he’s done something wrong, _again_ , but then Cas puts the bottle on the nightstand and slowly moves back into Dean’s space. Dean’s socked feet shuffle on the floor when Cas places an open hand on Dean’s chest and pushes him gently until his back collides with the closet door.

Dean’s brain decides it’s the perfect time to start panicking, so he opens his mouth and talks.

“I… I like your wall. Been thinking about doing something like this in my room for some time now. But maybe grey instead of red? W-what do you think?”

Cas lifts his head to look him in the eyes again. “I have no preference,” he says.

“Oh. Okay.” Dean lets out a shaky breath when Cas crowds in closer. He snaps his gaze between Cas’ eyes and his mouth and back to his eyes again. 

“Dean,” Cas whispers. “Can I kiss you?”

Dean whimpers, cups Cas’ face in his hands, and leans down to catch his mouth with his own. It feels as if his insides turn to fire at the same moment their lips finally touch. Cas’ hands fly up to grab Dean’s arms and pull him in closer, his mouth hot and hungry and enthusiastic against Dean’s.

Dean breaks the kiss and breathes heavily against Cas’ lips. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he pants.

“Why didn’t you?” Cas gasps and leans forward to kiss him again.

Dean has imagined this moment so many times before and he always thought he’d be dizzy with joy and want. Now though, his head finally feels clear instead, as if he has just broken the surface after being breathless and underwater for too long. 

He lets go of Cas’ face and wraps his arms around Cas’ middle, pushing him hard towards the centre of the room, towards the bed.

“I almost did a few times,” he says when they break away for air again. “I almost kissed you yesterday.”

“I wanted you to,” Cas says. His eyes are a brilliant shade of blue and his lips look red and inviting. Dean leans in and kisses him soft and sweet, a kiss that makes him weak in the knees and sends his pulse racing. Cas moans and parts his lips and then their tongues touch and Cas pushes fingers into Dean’s hair and it’s almost too much.

“ _Fuck_ , Cas,” Dean says brokenly. 

“I know,” Cas breathes back. He rests his forehead against Dean’s and his eyes slide closed. “Dean, I’m so… _crazy_ about you. Do you even realise?”

Dean hides his face in the crook of Cas’ neck and breathes in his scent to steady his racing heart. 

“I think I do,” he murmurs. “I, uh… Me, too.”

Cas laughs softly. He cups Dean’s face with his hands and brings him up for a kiss again, one that ends up with both of them on the bed, legs tangled and breaths heavy. Dean pushes Cas down onto the mattress and leans over him, leaving a trail of kisses along his jaw and neck. The swaying bulb above their heads leaves quivering shadows on their bodies as they undress slowly, taking their time to get familiar with every inch of naked skin that elicits new small gasps and moans. Cas is beautiful in this light and Dean keeps looking at him while he lets his hands travel and touch and tease. The feel of Cas’ hands on his skin makes him flush and shiver and he revels in it. He distracts Cas with a deep kiss, with the slide of their legs and the touch of his fingers tangled in Cas’ dark locks, and then they both gasp with quiet pleasure when Dean takes them both in hand and starts stroking. 

“Dean,” Cas gasps reverently into his mouth.

“I’ve got you, Cas,” Dean whispers, arching into him.

When Cas opens his eyes and seems to stare down his soul, Dean curses gently and rolls his hips to the rhythm of his hand. Cas moans and tips his head back, inviting Dean to latch onto his exposed skin and suck kisses into it.

They join hands and then Cas breathes out and comes all over Dean’s fingers. Dean closes his eyes, lets himself be kissed, and follows Cas just a few moments later. 

He comes back to his senses when he feels lips on his neck and warm fingers stroking his hair. He hums contentedly and slowly opens his eyes.

“We forgot about the beer,” Cas murmurs into his skin.

Dean laughs and wraps his arms around Cas’ shoulders to pull him in closer.

✱✱✱

Dean’s usual mornings begin with an alarm clock blaring at 7:30 while he taps his hand on the bedside table to turn the alarm off and go back to sleep for another five minutes. Then, he spends a lonely ten minutes under the spray of a refreshing shower and stomps into the kitchen to make coffee and breakfast for his brother and himself. He leaves for work in a wide variety of moods, either a very sour one if it’s Monday or a better one when it’s Friday.

This is not a usual morning.

First, he wakes up with the sun shining straight into his eyes because the windows are in a different place on the wall. He grimaces, confused for a split second, and then looks down and sees Cas pressed into his shoulder, his arm thrown lazily around Dean’s middle and his eyes closed.

Dean grins at the ceiling.

Instead of getting up and going to the kitchen to prepare Cas some breakfast, like he would do if they were in his apartment, he chooses to poke at Cas until he finally opens his eyes and glares at him.

“Mornin’, sleepyhead,” Dean teases and plants a kiss on Cas’ naked shoulder.

Cas grumbles and tries to push Dean’s face off of him. 

“It’s too early,” he complains.

Dean has spent enough mornings with sleepy Castiel to know he’s the biggest grouch the world has ever seen until he’s had his coffee which magically turns him into the sweetheart he actually is (or not; sometimes Cas needs two or three cups to wake up and even then it’s not really guaranteed that he’ll be nice). Dean counts himself lucky that he’s already had a chance to get to know this side of Cas; otherwise, he would probably feel a bit rejected.

He doesn’t want to stumble upon Gabriel, so he takes his time and wakes Cas with kisses and promises of breakfast. Cas opens one eye while his hands tighten on Dean’s waist. 

“Will you make eggs?” he asks, voice rough and too sexy for his own good.

Dean spends another minute kissing him thoroughly and enjoying Cas’ fingers tangling into his hair. 

“Will you make coffee?” he asks instead of answering. 

“Will you drive me to work?” Cas smirks.

Dean leans in and brushes his cheek with his lips. “Will you be my real boyfriend?”

Cas starts laughing, surprised, but when Dean slaps his naked thigh in retaliation, he pulls Dean in for another kiss, which is all the answer Dean needs, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading/commenting/leaving kudos!


End file.
